LIBRARY OPCONGRESS. 



Sliell'-v-r 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



BRIGHT SKIES AND DARK SHADOWS. 



DR. HENRY M. FIELD'S WORKS. 



FROM THE LAKES OF KILLARNEY TO THE GOLDEN 
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Slrulhtrsi Cu.. Eugr'v 



BRIGHT SKIES AXD DARK SHADOWS 






By henry M. field D.D. 



Sl^ttf) iQaps 




NEW YORK 
CHARLES SCEIBNER'S SONS 

1890 




COFTEIGHT, 1890, BY 

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS. 



WHOSE INVITATION, COMING AT A MOMKNT OF ILLNESS, 

TOOK ME AWAY TO A PARADISE OF KEST, 

AND GAVE ME STRENGTH TO BEGIN THIS BOOK, 

I NOW EETUKN IT COMPLETE 

IN ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF HIS GREAT KINDNESS, 

AND IN TOKEN OF A FRIENDSHIP 

THAT IS VERY DEAR TO ME. 



PREFACE. 

Migration to the South at the approach of Winter, has 
become almost as regular as the migration of birds. A 
journey that is so familiar needs little in the way of de- 
scription ; and if I linger here and there, or turn to some 
out-of-the-way place like Jupiter Inlet, it is not to magnify 
slight accessories, but to prepare a larger canvas for a 
principal figure, as these troj)ical surroundings furnish a 
background, the more effective by contrast, for the dark 
subject of my story. It is under these " bright skies " that 
the " shadows " creep on the scene. Out of the palms and 
the orange groves starts up a spectre, the ghost of some- 
thing gone, that, though dead and buried, sleeps in an 
unquiet grave, and comes forth at midnight to haunt us 
in our dreams. The Race Problem is the gravest that 
ever touched a nation's life. The subject at once fasci- 
nates and repels by its tremendous import, its difficulty 
and its danger. I have been so oppressed by it that I 
could not keep from speaking, even if it were only to 
ask questions. That is the way to get light, by groping 
after it. Confession of ignorance is the first step towards 
knowledge. To one in perplexity of mind on a difficult 
question, it is a help to talk it over in a friendly way : 
to exchange suggestions with those who give as well as 
receive. Ideas which were extremely vague, crystallize in 
expression, and are useful if only to draw forth some- 
thing better from others. With this frank statement, I 
give my thoughts for what they are worth, but do not 



ii PREFACE. 

assume for one moment to set myself up as an authority. 
I boast no superior wisdom : I only claim to have a few 
grains of common-sense, an earnest desire for the good 
of both races, and a boundless charity. 

After this grave discussion of a question that has been 
the brooding mother of all our woes, last and greatest of 
which was the late civil war, it is not a violent transition 
to a stirring event in the war itself, the Battle of Franklin. 
As I went oyer the field with those who had a part in the 
scenes of that terrible day, I have tried to tell the story 
in a way to be just alike to friend and foe. Then, by way 
of contrast and relief, we turn to a quiet old mansion on 
the banks of the Cumberland, where one of our earlier 
heroes, Andrew Jackson, lived and died. 

Beturning home across the mountains, it came in my 
way to visit the graves of Lee and Stonewall Jackson, in 
writing of whom I have not sought to revive recollections 
that could stir up bitterness, but to contribute at once to 
the truth of history and to the cause of peace. These very 
sketches serve to show us " how near and yet how far " is 
the great drama in which these distinguished actors bore 
a part — so near as to be remembered vividly by the living 
generation, and yet so far as to have removed all irrita- 
tion, so that we can write of these recent events with the 
calm, judicial temper of posterity. Cau we make a better 
use of history than to learn from it this double lesson : to 
honor all the heroic dead, and to think kindly and gener- 
ously of the living ? 
Makch, 1890. 



CONTENTS. 



I. Sent Aw ax. The Consolations of Exile S 

II. Over the Mountains: Asheville and Knoxvillb. 

A Reminiscence of the War 16 

III. From Chattanooga to Atlanta. Along the Track 

OF Sherman's March 27 

IV. Florida. St. Augustine and the Ponce de Leon. . . 36 

V. South Florida. Where the Palms Whisper to the 

Pines. Jupiter Inlet. Eobinson Crusoe Life 53 

VI. New England in the South. The Old Home and 

the New Home 76 

VII. Northern Florida 89 

VIII. "Marching through Georgia" 97 

IX. The Black Belt and the Eace Problem 107 

X. A New Departure. The Negro Vote 118 

XL Capacity of the Negro. His Position in the North. 

The Color Line in New England 131 

XII. The Expatriation of a Whole Race 154 

XIII. Looking Forward 165 

XIV. Old Masters Caeing for their Old Slaves 179 

XV. A Camp-meeting in the Woods, with a Few Words 

TO MY Colored Brethren 190 

XVI. A Story of the War: The Battle of Franklin 209 

XVII. The Hermitage: The Home and Burial-place of 

Andrew Jackson 257 

XVIII. Stonewall Jackson and the Valley Campaign 273 

XIX. The Last Days of General Lee 295 



BRIGHT SKIES AND DARK SHADOWS. 



CHAPTER I. 

SENT AWAY— THE CONSOLATIONS OF EXILE. 

"Go! go! go!" said the doctor. "The sooner, the 
better ! " This was sending me into exile at a moment's 
notice. I did not Kke it. There is no place like home, 
and though it may not be qmte orthodox, I have always 
been of the opinion that the angel of the household was 
as good as an angel with wings. But the doctor was per- 
emptory. He did not give advice, but command, and in 
such a case there is nothing to do but to obey. It would 
have lightened the matter a httle if I could have had so 
much as a pleasant day to depart ; but it was raining 
heavily as I crossed the Hudson, and one's spirits are apt 
to sink with the barometer. In such a mood, a ferry-boat 
is not the place of retirement that one would choose to 
indulge his sombre reflections ; and the station at Jersey 
City, dark as a half-lighted tunnel, seemed almost like a 
cavern leading to the shades below. But even in the 
shades one may recognize some famihar faces, and as I 
stepped into the drawing-room car, whom should I see in 
the opposite seat but an old friend who had just been 
elected Vice-President of the United States ! It is more 
than thirty years since I first knew Levi P. Morton : we 
recalled the very time and place at which our acquaint- 



10 RESTFUL PHILADELPHIA. 

ance began. He was then living in Fourteenth street, in 
a house twelve and a half feet wide ; but small as it was, 
it was full of brightness, and he was then the same gentle- 
spoken, quiet-mannered, and evcn-temj^ered man that he 
has been ever since, with a natural courtesy that makes 
all men his friends, and none his enemies. It is with a 
personal gratification that I see this true American gentle- 
man elevated to the second position in the government of 
his countr}^, and that he has at his side one who wiU do as 
much to grace the social life of V/ashington as any of her 
predecessors. 

Pleasant company makes time pass quickly, and it was 
not long before the train rolled into the station at Phila- 
delphia. The rain was still j^ouring, but there were bright 
lights and welcoming faces, and we were soon carried off, 
willing captives, to uaste the hospitality of the Quaker City. 

When I am banished from feverish New York, I betake 
me to restful Philadelphia, the very sight of which, with 
its rectangular streets and slow-moving people, subdues 
me to a feeling of quietness and peace. If I were a doc- 
tor, and had a patient who was suffering from insomnia, I 
would prescribe for him a change to Philadelphia. It is a 
perfect anodyne. At once the heart beats more slowly, 
the pulse becomes more measured and regular, and the 
tired brain finds the welcome rest that brings life back 
again, and the weary pilgrim starts on his journey anew, 
with fresh courage and hope. 

A Sunday in Philadelphia is next to walking the golden 
streets. The great city rests from its six days of labor. 
Men gather their families about them, and walk to the 
house of God in company. Angels are abroad, and we 
can almost hear the soft stirring of their wings. 

In this city of churches I feel very much at home. If 
one is looking about for a sight that is at once unique and 



A FAMOUS SUNDAY-SCHOOL. 11 

inspiring, he may find it in the famous Bethany Sunday- 
school, the largest in America, founded by Mr. John 
Wanamaker, whose partner, Mr. Bobert C. Ogden, not to 
be outdone in good works, has set up another, not in 
opposition, but in imitation. Mr. Wanamaker, at the 
head of his Bible-class, which includes many hundi'eds of 
mature age, who are still eager in their study of the 
Holy Book, is in his element. He loves to teach and to 
preach the Gospel, and he does a good deal in the way of 
practising it, too. When I saw him the next day in his 
place of business, which is such a centre of activity as 
would keep most men's heads in a whirl, he was as calm 
as a Summer's morning — not troubled in mind by the 
attacks upon him because of the pai-t he took in the late 
election, nor carried* off his feet by any political ambition. 
Indeed I believe he would rather be at the head of his 
Sunday-school than in the Cabinet of President Harrison, 
though he might be both. The fact that he has wrought 
so faithfully in the one, certainly does not unfit him for 
the other. I envy him, not for his wealth or worldly suc- 
cess, nor any political distinction which he may attain, but 
for the good that he has done among those for whom the 
rich generally care but little ; so that at the last, when he 
comes into the heavenly kingdom, he will not come alone, 
but will have a great multitude of children, and of the 
poor and the lowly, to keep him company. 

But Philadelphia is setting New York an example in 
other things than Sunday-schools, the last and greatest 
of which is a Tabernacle for Working-men, an immense 
structure, in which there is not only a church for religious 
services, but reception-rooms, a hall for popular lectiires, 
and an infii-mary for the treatment of diseases of the eye 
and ear, the throat and lungs — a treatment which, as it 
requires the skill of speciaHsts, is on that account so costly 



12 THE BEACON CHURCH, 

as to be beyond the reach of working men, but which is 
here provided without cost. This j^art of the general plan 
has been in operation for two years, in which time, even 
with the limited accommodation, it has furnished relief to 
over seven thousand patients. 

The planting of such a structure right against the 
walls of the sanctuary, with doors opening from one into 
the other, is a combination of the religious with the 
humane, which carries out the spirit of Him who went 
about doing good to the bodies as well as the souls of men. 
The church itself is so arranged as to invite the working 
classes. Instead of being patterned after the stiff and 
stately style of architecture, in which elaborate carving and 
florid decoration, and the general air of costHness, sei've as 
a warning to all who may be " in vile raiment " to keep 
away, this " Beacon Church " is constructed for a popular 
assembly, its seats being ranged in the form of an amj^hi- 
theatre, with great galleries into which crowds can pour, 
and in which a working-man would not hesitate to take his 
seat in his work-day clothes, if he had no other, with his 
wife and children, to hear anybody who has the art of 
speaking so as to touch his heart. And yet there is nothing 
about it cheap and mean-looking ; on the contrary, it is 
quite grand from its size and massiveness. In short, it is 
a church good enough for the best, and not too good for 
the humblest, to which therefore both extremes of society 
may gravitate by a common impulse, so that "the rich and 
the poor may sit together, and feel that God is the Maker 
of them all." 

But the design of course was chiefly for the working- 
men, as is indicated by the location, in a distant part of 
Philadelphia — perhaps four miles fi'om Chestnut street. 
It took us nearly an hoiu" to drive there. But for all 
that, it is not beyond the reach of a dense population, 



DESIGNED FOR WORKING-MEN. 13 

as it is in the midst of large manvifactories, that employ 
thousands of working-men and working-women, for whom 
this is intended to be a rallying centre, and a fountain of 
all good influences. 

The carrying out of this grand idea is due to the 
unwearied labors of Dr. Francis L. Eobbins, who has given 
his whole heart to it for several years, and who must have 
felt rewarded as he saw the great demonstration of Sunday 
evening. The church, which will hold three thousand 
people, was not only filled, but blockaded — floor and 
galleries and aisles, and every passage-way to the outer 
doors. On the platform sat ]\Ir. Morton, who is the uncle 
of IVIrs. Bobbins, and who had come on from New York 
especiall}' to be at this service ; and beside him, Mr. Drexel 
and Mr. George W. Childs, Mr. Wanamaker, and others 
who are well known as men who put their hands to every 
good work. I have rarely looked in the face a more 
inspiring audience, and the tone of all the speeches was 
one of hope and congratulation. All felt that this was a 
step in the right direction ; that it tended to solve the 
problem of reaching the masses with the Gospel ; that it 
bridged the chasm between the rich and the poor, bringing 
them nearer together, and both under the influence of 
that Religion which is the only solid foundation of social 
harmony and national prosperity. 

After the Sabbath was past, I lingered awhile in this 
goodly city to inhale the air of a place that is always restful 
to me. There are no ups and downs to cause unwary feet 
to stumble : all is plain and straight before my face. The 
city Heth four square, like the heavenly Jerusalem, and its 
surface is plain and smooth, as all the ways of life ought 
to be ; and the streets run at right angles, and are so 
carefully named and numbered that " the wayfaring man 
need not err therein." There is a quaint harmony in 



14 THE CITY OF PEACE. 

the domestic architectiii-e, there being some hundreds of 
thousands, more or less, of houses, all with the same brick 
fronts, the same dooi's and Avindows, and the same white 
doorsteps, the daily washing of which is the badge of 
respectability, if it be not indeed " the outward and visible 
sign of an inward and spiritual grace." It is a moral 
lesson to watch the people in the streets, who do not rush 
about with undue precipitation, but walk with measui'ed 
steps, in which there is a kind of slow rhythm, that insen- 
sibly subdues the stranger to the same dignity and repose. 
All these things work in me a calm and equable frame 
of mind ; and when I have been up to the Presbyterian 
House, and talked with " all the holy brethren," and been 
assured that every department of our ecclesiastical ma- 
chinery is in perfect order ; and to the editorial rooms 
of " The Presbyterian " and " The Journal," and meekly 
inquired as to the prospects of union between the Chui-ches 
North and South, and have them both (though their views 
are exactly opposite) tell me confidentially that *' it is aU 
coming out right," I am greatly reUeved in mind. Then I 
need only to ride down town, and look into the untroubled 
face of that model gentleman, George TV. Childs ; and to 
sit with Mr. Drexel in- his banking house — a man who is as 
simple as if he were not a king in the world of finance — 
and hear him speak hopefully of the prospects of the 
business world ; to be quite reheved of any fears for the 
country, under whatever administration it may be. It is 
thus that PhiladeliDhia quiets my nerves and cools my 
blood, and leads me to think that the world is not going 
to the bad, after all. God bless the dear old city of 
Franklin and of WHUam Penn, whose spirit of peace and 
of brotherhood abides upon her still — a city rich in its 
commerce and its accumulated wealth, but richer still in 
its noble men and women ! 



WASHINGTON AS A PLACE OF EXILE. 15 

Washington is another city of refuge for me, when I 
am ordered away from home in search of a milder climate. 
There, hard by the Capitol, is a wide, roomy house, in 
which everything is, like its possessor, large and generous, 
with a great library, which is the very paradise of a scholar. 
Here the sunshine pours in all day long, and the weary 
pilgrim can enjoy the " sunshine cure," for there is sun- 
shine without and within. The master of this hospitable 
mansion, when in college, bore the proud title of Magnus 
Ager, to distinguish him from a smaller edition of the same 
stock, who, being the very least, or httlest, of the tribe of 
Judah, had the diminutive appellation of Parvus Ager. 
These college names indicated the relations which existed 
between the two, and which continue still, for never am I 
" in any trouble of mind, body or estate," that I do not 
turn to him who is " older and wiser " ; and to this day, 
when I find myself in the arms of this big-brained, big- 
breasted, big-hearted brother, I feel that I am about as 
near " the realm where love abides " as I expect to be tiU 
I pass over the river. 

The afternoon that I arrived the large house had been 
the scene of a reception at which there had been a bril- 
liant array of Washington society, in which Mr. Blaine, 
who attracted all eyes, divided attention with the Chinese 
Ambassador. For aU this I came too late, for which I 
was not sorry, as nothing fatigues me so much as a crowd, 
and there were over four hundred guests. So I was con- 
tent to hear aU about it, and to receive the report as one 
listening to the faint murmur of the outer world, when it 
is BO soft and gentle as not to disturb the peace and hap- 
piness within. These are the consolations of exile. And 
so I find that to be banished is not a cruel punishment, if 
one may chooce his place of exile, in which case I should 
certainly choose Washington. 



CHAPTER II. 

OVER THE MOUNTAINS— ASHEVILLE AND KNOXVILLE— 
A REMINISCENCE OF THE WAR. 

" On to Richmond " was the cry in the early days of 
the war : but it took our armies four years to make the 
distance which I now made in four hours. As I passed 
through it, I caught sight of a famihar face, that of the 
Hon. J. L. M. Curry, who had showed me so much kind- 
ness in Madiid, and now came to speed me on my way, 
only exacting a promise that I should pay him a visit on 
my return. With such friendly benedictions we glided 
away towards the going down of the sun, for though I had 
been ordered to the South, it was with full liberty as to 
the route I should take, so that I could " meander" hither 
and thither, towards the mountains or the sea. 

From Richmond the direct route to Florida is by the 
Atlantic Coast line, passing through Charleston and Savan- 
nah, by which one who takes the Vestibule Train in New 
York, can be transported, with the greatest possible com- 
fort, to Jacksonville, in thirty hom-s, and in two hours more 
to St. Augustine. But I was in no such pressing haste. 
My orders were only to keep moving southward, getting 
all the while into a milder climate. With this liberty, I 



IN WESTERN NORTH CAROLINA. 17 

followed my usual bent in turning aside, as the fancy took 
me, to places of interest, to reach my destination at last, 
though in a roundabout way. On the western border of 
Virginia is a chain of mountains, full of wild and beautiful 
scenery, to see which, instead of going directly South, I 
turned to the Southwest, and the next morning found my- 
self at Asheville, in North Carolina, a place which has of 
late become one of the most famous resorts in the country. 
Its attractions are those of scenery and cHmate. It lies in 
the lap of mountains, being itself at an elevation of more 
than two thousand feet above the level of the sea. The air 
that sweeps through these pine forests is pure and bracing, 
while even the hill-tops are protected by ranges of moun- 
tains from the storms of the North. If a blizzard from 
Dakota, having lost its way, comes thundering down upon 
the Alleghanies, it is caught by these snowy peaks, some of 
which are six or seven thousand feet high, and tossed into 
the upper sky, while the air is kept untroubled below. To 
this position is due the remarkable evenness of tempera- 
ture. Surrounded and protected by these guardian 
mountains, Asheville knows nothing of the extremes of 
cUmate. It is never very hot, nor very cold. For this 
reason it is a resort all the year round, in the Winter being 
taken possession of by Northerners, who at this moment 
throng the corridors of the Battery Park Hotel (one of the 
best hotels in all the South), but who at the approach of 
Summer return to their own beautiful country seats on the 
Hudson, or in New England, while their places here are 
filled by Southerners, who find this Hill Country a welcome 
retreat from the lowlands of the Carolinas or the Gulf 
States. 

The region so healthful is equally remarkable for beauty, 
as one can see even from the hotel, which stands on a hill- 
top, with the ground sloping from it on every side, so that 



18 ASHEVILLE : 

from my window I look clown into a deep gorge that is 
shut in by the Eastern hiUs, over which comes the fii'st 
gleam of the morning sun ; and walking round the wide 
verandas, I can be in the sunshine all day long, fi'om sun- 
rise to sunset. 

But for all this I should not have known how very 
beautiful the country was, and should have gone away 
with eyes but half opened, if a gentleman who lives in 
AsheviUe, and is a large landed proprietor, had not taken 
me to points of view which a stranger might not discover. 
This was Mr. Pier son, a brother-in-law of Dr. Curry, to 
whom the latter had entrusted me as his friend, and who 
therefore took me in charge as if I were an old acquaint- 
ance. Driving me out of town two or three miles, he led 
the way to a hill on which he is building a house for him- 
self, a point of view from which the eye takes in a circuit 
of fifty miles, within which is included every variety of 
landscape. How many peaks there are on the horizon, I 
will not pretend to say. On the west are the Smoky 
Mountains of Tennessee, which figure so much in the 
stories of Charles Egbert Craddock, while northward and 
southward are the mountains of Virginia and the Carolinas. 
Nor is that other element of beauty in a landscape, water, 
wanting. At the very foot of the hiU flows the " French 
Broad," a river worthy of its name, which in its volume 
and swiftness reminds one of the most famous river of 
Europe, as it " nobly foams and flows " with a majesty 
almost like that of the Rhine. 

But this is not the only beautiful place near Ashe- 
viUe. On the other side of the town is another more 
finished, which by a curious coincidence belongs to another 
brother-in-law of Dr. Curry, Col. Connelly, a brave Confed- 
erate officer, who lost an arm at Gettysburg, but who 
" bates not a jot of heai't or hope," and divides his time, 



ITS BEAUTIFUL ENVIRONS. 19 

with almost equal enthusiasm, between the care of his 
estate and the study of the Bible. The latter amounts to 
a holy passion with him. I found him with his dictionaries 
and reference books wide open on his table, and he told 
me that he devoted to this study six hours a day ! From 
his library he has but to step out upon a broad balcony, 
to look round upon a scene as fair to the eye as that 
which Moses saw from the top of Pisgah. Indeed he has 
the advantage of Moses, in that he has already entered 
into his Promised Land, while Moses could only see his 
from a distance. Men who are devout lovers of both nature 
and the Bible, cannot help illustrating their ideas of one 
from what they see of the other, and I doubt not the 
gallant Colonel, as he looks across to the rich meadows 
on the other side of the river, has visions of " green fields 
beyond the swelling flood," and as the sun goes down in 
the west, and every mountain peak is tipped with fire, he 
may weU think that he catches a glimpse of the heavenly 
towers and battlements. 

In truth, it is an enchanting country, bringing forth in 
abundance aU the fruits of the earth. "Why do not the 
fanners of New England, who find their winters long and 
bitterly cold, and their soils hard and unproductive, seek 
new homes here in this milder climate, with this richer 
soil, instead of going off to the most distant territories ? 
It would be a delightful change. Our good Presbyterians 
would find themselves at home, for Asheville has its Pres- 
byterian church, with an excellent pastor. Many of them 
would live longer and make a living easier ; for the soil is 
rich and productive, and they would not be so far away 
fi'om the homes of their childhood, as if they had emigrat- 
ed to Idaho or Montana. 

"When we left Asheville, we kept still westward, down 
the valley of the French Broad, which opened many a 



20 KNOXVILLE. 

pretty vista as we wound along its banks, till we came to 
where the hills parted, and in the green intervale between, 
bubble up the Hot Springs, whose medicinal qualities have 
made it a great resort, both for invalids and for the fash- 
ionable world. Here is a hotel of such dimensions and so 
well appointed as to suggest that some Eastern capitalists 
have been putting their money into it ; and inquiring, I 
learned that my old friends, George F. Baker (President 
of the First National Bank of New York) and Henry C. 
Fahnestock, whose long arms reach out in many directions, 
had found this lovely spot, and picked up a trifle of a few 
thousand acres among the mountains of North CaroHna. 

Soon after leaving the Hot Springs, we cross the border- 
line, and are in Tennessee. Like the other States which 
lie along the great AiDpalachian chain, it has a broad 
expanse, stretching from the mountains to the river, with 
its head lifted into the clouds, while its feet are dipped in 
the Father of Waters. It is almost an Alpine region 
tlu'ough which we enter the State, winding upward till, a 
Uttle after noon, we halt at Knoxville, the capital of East 
Tennessee. A long street leads up to the centre of the 
town, where, in the early settlement, were erected the 
Court House and other jjublic buildings, as a nucleus for 
the gathering population. Knoxville is a place which has 
a history, being one of the first settlements west of the 
mountains. Of course I could not be in such a historic 
city even for a few hours without a desire to know all 
about it ; but there was no one to tell me, for as I had not 
been quite sure of my own route, I had come without 
introductions. In this extremity, I did what I have some- 
times done before — inquired for the nearest Presbyterian 
minister, and being directed to the parsonage, introduced 
myself to the pastor of the First Church, the Rev. Dr. 
Pai'k. I found him a man of stalwai-t proportions, with a 



GROWTH OF THE CITY. 21 

beard which gave him a patriarchal appearance, who, when 
he had looked me over, and concluded that I was "aU 
right," invited me into his house, and gave me a seat before 
an open fire which warmed us both, and in the glow of 
which we soon got acquainted ; and he ended by taking a 
buggy and driving me about the town, by which I learn- 
ed more of its history in a few hours than I could have 
learned by myself in a week. Naturally the first object of 
interest was his own church, which is the mother of all the 
churches, in whose graveyard sleep many of Tennessee's 
illustrious dead, among them the Hon. Hugh L. "WTiite, 
once a candidate for the Presidency of the United States. 
Among the Hving relics of other days is Mrs, Ramsey, the 
widow of the historian of Tennessee, to whom I was glad 
to pay my respects. 

And now for a stretch over the hills. Knoxville is 
a city of hills as much as Eome ever was, though I think 
there must be more than seven here. As we passed from 
one hilltop to another, my venerable guide was full of the 
infonnation for which I was eager. We found that the 
city was growing on every side. New streets and avenues 
were being opened, and the sound of the hammer in many 
quarters told of the multiplication of dwellings to provide 
for the increase of inhabitants. Few cities in the United 
States have grown so rapidly in the last decade. "In 
1880," said Dr. Park, " the population, according to the 
census, was 10,500. To-day it is 43,000. Thus within 
these nine years it has increased fourfold ! " And very 
pleasant it was to see the homes that were provided for 
he incoming multitude ; that, instead of the houses being 
crowded in blocks, plastered together like so many bricks 
in a wall, they stood apart, each in its little plot of ground, 
with a pretty yard in front, and room for flowers and vines, 
wh ich not only gave a look of beauty as seen fi-om without, 



22 HISTORICAL ASSOCIATIONS. 

but were suggestive of taste and refinement within. All this 
is a token of the general cultivation which becomes a city 
enthroned upon the hills. It would seem to be just the 
place for literary institutions ; nor was I surprised to find 
one of its hills already crowned by the University of Ten- 
nessee. 

But one thing more remained, and that was a visit to a 
point of great historical interest in the late war. The 
people of Tennessee were generally opposed to secession, 
but when the State Government cast in its lot with the 
South, many felt that it was the part of patriotism to share 
its fate. Others left their homes, and making their way 
across the mountains into Kentucky, joined the Union 
armies. Thus East Tennessee was between two fires, but 
no great event occurred tiU near the close of 1863, when 
Knoxville had a siege and a defence that were among the 
most notable in the war. That I might understand it 
better. Dr. Park drove me to Fort Sanders, on the outskirts 
of the city, which was the scene of the conflict. Here, as 
we stood on an angle of the old earthworks, he indicated 
to me the position of the two armies, till it was all sj^read 
out before me as on a map. 

To know the momentous importance of what was here 
to take place, I must recall to my readers the situation at 
the moment, which was one of the most critical of the war. 
The year 1863 had seen great events. After the disasters 
of Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville, had come the inva- 
sion of Pennsylvania, that was beaten back by the battle 
of Gettysburg, a victory which elated the North as much 
as the previous defeats had depressed it. But now came 
another tremendous blow at Chickamauga — a battle of 
which I have always had a very vivid impression from the 
description given me by General Gai*field. Again the 
country was in great anxiety. Grant was sent to Chatta- 



A REMINISCENCE OF THE WAR. 23 

nooga to take command, and fresb troops from the Ai'my 
of the Potomac were whirled with incredible sj)eed over 
the mountains, across the Ohio, and down into Tennessee. 
Meanwhile Bragg held his position in front of Chattanooga, 
his army stretching for miles along Missionary Kidge. 
The two armies were in sight of each other ; they could 
see each other's camp fires, and both were j^i'epai'ing 
for the inevitable struggle. At this moment Bragg, with 
what seemed an infatuation, detached Longstreet, his best 
corps commander, to move to the North, and take Knox- 
ville, which was an important point of communication 
between the western portion of the Confederacy and Rich- 
mond. Perhaps he thought it an easy matter, which could 
be done in a few days, and that Longstreet could return in 
time for the great battle that was approaching. But it was 
not so easy. KnoxvOle, with the country below it, was 
held by Biurnside, not in great force, but with troops suf- 
ficient at least to check and harass the enemy. Grant 
watched the whole movement with the utmost satisfaction, 
for it suited his military plans to have this strong force 
out of his way, and he sent orders to Bumside to ojDpose 
Longstreet at every step, so as to delay his progress, and 
yet to fall back after every engagement, so as to draio him on, 
and as he expressed it, " toll him over the river," and then 
to hold Knoxville at all hazards. 

Never were orders more faithfully carried out. Keep- 
ing on the defensive, Burnside pursued the poHcy of 
fighting and retreating, till his troojDS, worn out with 
marching and battle, dragged themselves over the hills and 
into Knoxville. 

Of all this Dr. Park was himself an eye-witness. He 
said : " I was then pastor of a church ten miles south of 
Knoxville, and saw both armies as they marched by. First 
came the Federals : they passed my door, numbers of the 



24 THE SIEGE OF KNOXVILLE. 

officers were in my house, and spoke freely of the situation, 
anticipating defeat ; and when the next day Longstreet 
appeared, and began to ask about the roads this side and 
that side of Ivnoxville, I said to him, ' You need only to 
march straight against the city, and send in a flag of truce, 
with a summons, to receive an immediate surrender ! ' " 
This was no doubt good sound Presbyterian doctrine, but 
perhaps the old soldier thought he was a better judge than 
even the most orthodox minister. However, the latter 
maintains to this day, that if his advice had been followed, 
the place would have fallen. Certainly it was in imminent 
peril, and every moment that the attack could be delayed 
was a gain to Burnside. No sooner had he entered the 
town, than his troops, though ready to drop with fatigue 
and cold and hunger, were set to work with spade and 
shovel ; and the people of the place, white and black, were 
pressed into the service ; and all together worked day and 
night, resting but two hours in the twenty-four ; while a 
force of 700 cavalry, harassing the Confederates, dela^^ed 
their advance, till their camjps were pitched in sight of the 
town, when the place was in a state of defence that render- 
ed it possible to hold it. For ten days the siege went on. 
Longstreet took it deliberately, perhaps thinking that he 
had a sure thing ; that Burnside was caged where he could 
not escape, but as time became more pressing he determin- 
ed to carry the place by assault. This is bloody business, 
but it is soon over. Dr. Park pointed out just where he 
planted his batteries, and the slope up which the attack 
must come. The garrison had cut away the trees so as to 
have free range for their guns, and strung telegrajih-wires 
from stump to stump to trip the feet of the charging 
column. Longstreet had given express orders that the 
assault should be made with a rj/s/i, for he knew well that 
no troops could stand for many minutes the withering fire 



TERRIBLE SLAUGHTER. 25 

that would be opened upon tlieni. Having thus issued the 
order of battle, he waited only for daybreak. Just as the 
sun rose the flag of the Foi-t soared to the peak, aud the 
band saluted it with the Star Spangled Banner. On the 
instant fi-om without the walls there rose a wild yell, as the 
troops that had crept up the slope under cover of a fog 
rushed to the assault. The same moment the earthworks 
were crested with flame, and shot and shell tore through 
the Confederates. Yet on they came, like the waves of the 
sea, dashed up by the tremendous force behind. Men 
rushed into the ditch and struggled up the embankment, 
but the fire was incessant ; aud to add to the destruction, 
hand-grenades were thrown by the hundred to explode in 
the mass below. Still the survivors climbed over the 
bodies of the fallen, and battle-flags were planted on the 
parapet, to be instantly torn down. An officer planting 
his hand on a gun, demanded surrender, and was blown 
into eternity. Such a fire no human endurance could 
stand long. In five minutes it was all over. Seven hun- 
dred men lay dead or dying in the trench below, and three 
hundred were taken prisoners. The siege of KnoxviUe 
was ended. The city remained in Union hands, but the 
assault was one in which the glory was divided : for never 
was greater courage shown in an assault, as never was a 
besieged place more bravely defended. 

And now here were we, two ministers of the Gospel, 
standing on the top of the old earthworks, and talking it 
aU over. My friend is an intense Southerner (for which I 
don't blame him), and I thought had a lingering regret 
that Longstreet had not followed his advice ; but still, 
inasmuch as he is a good Presbyterian and a devout 
believer in Divine decrees, that "whatsoever is ordained 
surely cometh to pass," I think he is willing to submit to 
the decision of the Almighty. 



26 A UNIOX MAN DURING THE WAR. 

It was a tlirilling story, which had tenfold interest 
when recalled on the yery spot where the events took 
place, and I was extremely grateful to the best of gnide3 
who had brought me here, as well as for aU his kindness 
and courtesy to " a pilgrim and a stranger." 

But the hospitality of Knoxville did not end here. As 
we rode back into town, we met at a great warehouse in 
the main street a notable citizen, Mr. Perez Dickinson, a 
New Englander by birth, a native of Amherst, Mass., but 
who has lived here fifty-nine years, remaining through the 
war, though he was known as a Union man, and would 
never take the oath of allegiance to the Confederacy. As 
his carriage was at the door, he bade me " come up into 
the chariot," and took me off to his house, and kept me to 
tea and thi-ough the evening, diu'ing which, as we sat 
before the fire, I asked him innumerable questions, and 
learned more about East Tennessee, its early history, the 
character of its first settlers (who were in the main of 
Scotch-Irish descent), and of the late war, including the 
memorable siege, than I ever knew before, and now con- 
sider myself (at least among those who are as ignorant 
as I was) an authority on the subject. At nine o'clock 
the pastor of the Presbyterian church, which is connected 
with the Northern Assembly, called and accompanied me to 
the station, where I took the night train for Chattanooga. 



CHAPTER ni. 

LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN AVAR MEMORIES ATLANTA. 

It was after midniglit when we left Knoxville. In 
turning southward, we passed over the very route by which 
Longstreet had come up the valley of the Tennessee, to 
make the assault which I have briefly described ; and as I 
was full of the history, it took such hold of my imagina- 
tion that I seemed now and then to hear the tramp of 
armed men, and the rumbling of the artillery wagons as 
they moved forward to battle. But it was a relief to wake 
and find that such visions were only in my dreams, and 
that when I looked out through the curtains of my window, 
I could not see a single camp-fire, nor hear a sound but 
that of the wind whispering through the forest. "When 
morning came, we were drawing into Chattanooga, and as 
a hungry traveller, I was looking round for a breakfast, 
when I was saluted by a familiar voice — that of Mr. S. A. 
Cunningham of the Nashville American, to: whom I had 
telegraphed that I was to take this route, and who had come 
all the way from Nashville to meet me. It was a jDleasant 
surprise, and of course I gave up at once the idea of going 
on directly to Atlanta, and accepted his suggestion to spend 
the forenoon upon Lookout Mountain. This is not at all 



28 LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN. 

difficvilt, as a street-car takes you to its foot, from which a 
railway, rising at a sharj3 angle, lifts you to the top. This is 
not the most romantic way of climbing a mountain. When 
I went over the Alps in my young days, I preferred to go 
on foot, with alpenstock in hand, and a trusty guide to 
lead the way, though of late I confess that when I come to 
the Rhigi, which is a pretty long pull, I am wilhng to take 
steam as a substitute for legs. It saves an immense 
amount of muscle, as it does here, and there is a pleasant 
sensation in being carried up, as in the chariot of EHjah, 
and alighting on a movintain peak. The car stops at the 
extreme end of the ridge, where stands a hotel, planted on 
a ledge of rock, far above the " sea of pines " that waves 
below. Here, as you walk round the broad veranda, you 
look down into forest depths on every side, while you seem 
to be on a level with the eagles that are soaring into the 
blue vault of heaven. 

At this point you " change carriages," taking another 
track, which runs along the very crest of the mountain. 
You are now in the rear of Lookout (caUing the side toward 
Chattanooga the fi-ont), and as you pass slowly along the 
edge of the cliff, you take in the exact scene of " the battle 
above the clouds." My ideas of It had been somewhat 
vague, and indeed I had heard some would-be critics 
(who, however, had never smelt gunpowder) intimate with 
a sneer that this boasted engagement "was not what it 
was cracked up to be." Far be it from me to ai'gue with 
such learned authorities ; but without pretending to any 
military knowledge, I must say that my impression of what 
the battle must have been was greatly increased by what I 
saw, for the mountain is higher, and the ascent more pre- 
cipitous. All round the top, it is so escarped by natuie as 
to present a succession of crags, so high and bold as to 
constitute a natural fortress, easy of defence, which the 



THE BATTLE ABOVE THE CLOUDS. 29 

bravest soldiers woiild not wish to attack in the face of an 
enemy. Scanning the position more closely, we could see 
why Hooker threw his troops round the mountain, and 
took it in the rear, for here are points more accessible, and 
the ascent was through a forest which was itself some pro- 
tection. xVs the advance had to be made through thick 
woods, it could not be in close formation, where a well- 
aimed shot, tearing through a solid column, would strike 
down numbers. The companies and regiments had to be 
broken up as in a skirmish line, by which they were less 
exposed, and were partly screened by rocks and trees. 
Then, too, as they came under the cliffs, their very steep- 
ness was an advantage, for the guns above could not be 
depressed low enough to do execution. For this reason 
the mountain batteries were almost useless, and the combat 
was chiefly with musketry, men fighting hand to hand. 
All these concessions we make willingly, and yet, when all 
is said and done, it was a daring attempt to storm that 
mountain height, and the hteral truth of history can take 
nothing fi-om the glory of " the battle above the clouds." 

Alighting from the car, we walked perhaps a mile 
across the plateau of the mountain. I was surprised at its 
extent. It is covered by a grove, under the shade of which 
a large body of troops might pitch their tents. As we 
come to the other side, we are again on the brow of a chff, 
from which we take in the whole wide vaUey below. 
Yonder is Chattanooga, round which, as a centre, was 
encamped the army of Grant, stretching northward as far 
as the eye could reach, while the army of Bragg lay in full 
sight of it, and hardly out of cannon range. My friend, 
who was in the battle, was able to point out the positions of 
the two aiTQies, and as he spoke of the movements of that 
terrible day, it seemed as if the roar of the guns was still 
in his ears. Of the battle itself the story has been told so 



30 LOSSES IN THE BATTLES OP THE WAR. 

often, and by the best of all witnesses, the Commanders on 
both sides, that it does not need to be rejieated here. It 
was one of the great events of American history, which I 
can understand far better now fi-om the hours spent that 
day on Lookout Mountain. 

When on that mountain top, we were in the very centre 
of a theatre of great events. Only a few miles distant is 
the field of Chickamauga, where the battle was fought in 
Sejitember, 18G3, two months befoi-e that at Chattanooga, 
which followed in November. A few months since there 
was a gathering of old soldiers at Chickamauga, in which 
Federals and Confederates united, (with Gen. Rosecrans, 
the leader of the Union Army, on one side, and Gen. John 
B. Gordon on the other,) at which it was proposed that this 
historic field be set ajoart by the Government, as Gettysbiu'g 
had been, to be kept forever sacred as the scene of a martial 
prowess such as has rarely been recorded in the annals of 
war. If the best proof of courage be the number of losses 
in proportion to the number of combatants, few battles of 
modern times can be compared with Chickamauga. The 
late Franco-German War is often quoted as having fur- 
nished an exhibition, not only of strategic skill unequalled 
since the time of Napoleon, but of an imj^etuous valor that 
took no account of human life. Of this the most signal dis- 
play was at Mars la Tour, where, a movement of the French 
army impending for which the German army was not pre- 
pared, in order to gain a few hours, ^ picked corps of cav- 
ah-y was ordered to dash itself against the ranks of the 
enemy. Officers, who saw that such an attack meant the 
destruction of those who made it, protested against the 
sacrifice ; but the imperturbable Moltke calmly replied, 
•' It is not a question of men : it is a question of neces- 
sity ! " As the order to charge was an order to die, the 
regiments drew lots to determine which should die first, 



IN THE LINE OP SHERMAN'S MARCH. 31 

and then one after the other rode madly against the foe. 
It was Balaklava over again, only on a larger scale. When 
the remnants of the squadrons that had passed through 
the fire, came back again, one-half of that splendid corps 
was left upon the plain ! But a recent report, made upon 
exact returns obtained from the War Department, shows 
that many regiments in our war lost in a single battle more 
than half of the men who went into it ! Much as we de- 
plore the fact that this was in a civil war, we should not 
be worthy of the name of Americans if we could forget 
such splendid courage. 

The battle of Chattanooga virtually ended the cam- 
paign of 1863. Bragg withdrew his army forty miles far- 
ther south to Dalton, where the narrow vaUey broadens 
into a space sufficient for a large camping-ground. He 
was soon relieved by General Johnston, who spent the 
Winter in repairing the losses of the last campaign, and 
preparing for the next. It came in the Spring with the 
advance of General Sherman, and for two months there 
was a battle, large or small, almost every day. The line 
of march was along the Western and Atlantic Eailroad, 
without which indeed it is doubtful if the campaign could 
have been made at all : for the mere j)i'ovisioning of the 
army required a hundred and forty -five car-loads a day ! 

As I passed over this road, of course I was in the route 
of the great " Mountain Campaign," and every few min- 
utes the conductor called my attention to some historic 
spot. Here was Resaca, at which General Harrison, then in 
command of an Indiana regiment, is said to have distin- 
guished himself. And yonder by the track stood an old 
frame building, weather-beaten and ugly, but which took 
on a strange interest as I heard that this was the veritable 
" Big Shanty," which gave name to a battle. It has a gaunt 
and spectral appearance ; but it once shook with the roar 



32 KENESAW MOUNTAIN. 

of artillery that thundered through the valley, and its 
floors were covered with wounded and dying men. 

But the most picturesque scene of battle was Kenesaw 
Mountain, a noble height, which, overlooking the country 
round for many miles, formed a sort of Gibraltar for the 
Confederate Army, by which it was occupied as the centre 
of its position, with batteries on its very stunmit and along 
its sides, whUe the right and left wings of the army reached 
out for miles on either side. To cany such a position re- 
quired both generalship and courage of the highest order. 
Every point was defended with the utmost obstinacy, while 
the assailants charged in front and on the flank day by 
day, meeting with terrible losses, but continually bringing 
up new forces, and pushing forward with in-esistible power. 
When at last Johnston was obliged to fall back, the moun- 
tain was immediately occupied by the Union troops, but 
with no such advantage as before, as the Confederates did 
not propose to attack it. It answered the purpose, how- 
ever, of a point of observation, and it was from its summit 
that, later in the campaign, was signalled the message to a 
post in the rear that had been suddenly attacked by the 
enemy, " Hold the fort, for I am coming," which furnished 
the motto for the famous hymn — a result quite unexpected 
by the grim old soldier who sent it. He is said not to be 
always quite " devotional " in his habits of thought or 
modes of speech, and must have been surprised that his 
message from the top of Kenesaw Mountain should be 
caught up as a battle-cry to be used in spiritual conflicts, 
and to be heralded far and wide, over land and sea. 

But it is hardly possible to count all the fields of battle 
and of death that lie between Chattanooga and Atlanta. 
Every valley and every mountain side is hallowed by sol- 
diers' graves, which lie thicker as we get farther South. 
Of the terrible combats that raged round Atlanta, I saw 



ATLANTA. 33 

a sad memorial the next day, as I drove out two or thi-ee 
miles to a solitary place in the woods, where a heavy can- 
non, set upright, stands as a monument to the gallant 
General McPherson on the very spot where he fell. 

It was a little after dark when we rolled into the sta- 
tion, and found shelter in that spacious caravayiserai, the 
Kimball House, where with bath and bed the fatigues of 
travel were soon forgotten. 

Atlanta is a place in which I feel vei-y much at home. 
Not that I have been here often, only two or three times ; 
but we have a representative of Atlanta in Stockbridge, in 
the person of Mr. John H. Inman, who has his Summer 
home on our hiU-toj^. There I have become acquainted 
with his relatives, who came to visit him, so that when I 
come here, they receive me almost as one of the family — 
a relation in which I am very glad to be recognized. This 
cordial welcome, with perhaps something in this Southern 
climate, soon warms even my cold Northern blood. 

Atlanta has another attraction for me in Henry W. 
Grady, whom I place alongside of another Summer neigh- 
bor of mine in the Berkshire Hills, Joseph H. Choate, as 
two of the most delightful men that ever charmed an 
audience, moving them at will to laughter or to tears. 
Mr. Grady is not a man you would make a hero of at first 
sight. He has not the tall figure of Mr. Choate (he is 
short and thick-set), nor the keen eye that looks through 
and through an ugly witness, and by a kind of fascination 
draws the truth out of him in spite of himself. I found 
him in his den (for being an editor myself, I know what 
dens they inhabit) amid piles of newspaper rubbish, which 
have such an ancient look that they might be mummy 
cloths unwrapped from the bodies of Egyptians that have 
been dead thousands of years. He was sitting in one of 
those convenient office chairs, which are mounted on 



34 HEXRY AV. GRADY. 

springs, so that the sitter can turn in any direction (for an 
editor lias sometimes to shift his position very quickly), 
leaning back, with his feet on the table in fi'ont, and 
hugging to his breast a pad on which he was writing a 
letter. Thus doubled up, he dashes off letters or news- 
paj)er articles right and left. The versatility of the man 
amazes me ; no amount of work disconcerts him ; he sees 
everybodjr, talks with chance visitors, while he keeps on 
writing ; and then can jump up at a minute's notice, and 
go to any sort of gathering, and make a speech on any 
subject! He has in him the elements of a successful 
pohtician : for he is as nimble as a cat, and like a cat, 
always falls on his feet. I do beUeve, if you should toss 
him into the aii* or throw him out of the fourth-story 
window, he would light on the ground all right, and be 
ready to start off on the instant to speak at any pubUc 
gathering, political or reUgious, whether it were to address 
a camp-meeting, or make a rousing speech at a Democratic 
Convention. 

Though he has been for some years known at the South, 
he was little known at the North until two years ago, when 
he appeared at the New England dinner in New York. I 
was at that time abroad ; but one day in Palermo, in Sicily, 
a lady just from Naples handed me an American paper 
which contained his sjieech, and I read it, not once but 
many times, and each time with a new appreciation of its 
wonderful jjathos and j)ower. That speech made his 
reputation at the North. When I came home I got the 
pamphlet that contained the proceedings of the New Eng- 
land Society, in which it was reported in full, and it is 
often read in my family, though I confess to a little sj)ite 
against it, for there is a person whom I cannot bear to see 
shed a tear, who, when she tries to read it, always finds 
something in her throat. 



ROUND THE HEARTHSTONE. 35 

Busy as lie was, ]\Ir. Grady must needs liave me to 
dinner, and, to tell tlie truth, " Barkis was willin'," for, like 
Mr. Cboate, he is nowhere so delightful as in his own home, 
where all preoccupation is gone, and he can give himself up 
to his fi'iends. Here his wit and humor are infinite. Few 
men can tell a story so well. To hear him give the outlines 
of a recent work of fiction, as he did of " The Two Little Con- 
federates," was next to reading the story. Out of respect 
to my clerical character, he invited three of the city pastors 
to meet me, a Presh_)'terian, a Methodist, and a Baptist, of 
whom I can only say that, if they are fair representatives of 
their respective denominations, the pulpit of Atlanta will 
rank with the pulpit of New York. 

[The above was written some months ago— in May, 1889— and now 
as these pages are going to press, it is with inexpressible pain that I 
have to add, that he who was the life of that happy home, the centre of 
all that brightness, has gone to the grave. Mr. Grady was of a compact 
frame, capable of any amount of labor and endurance. Subject to no 
disease, he had the promise of a long life, with ever growing influence 
and power. But late in the Autumn he took a cold, which, though 
severe, would have yielded to treatment, if he could have remained 
under his own roof. But he was continually pressed to go away, to 
speak on public occasions. Yielding to this importunity, he had accepted 
an invitation to address the Merchants Club of Boston, for which he 
had prepared himself, and as the time approached, though unfit to leave 
home, he could not bear to disappoint his friends. He went and made 
a speech on the Race Problem, which was considered by those who heard 
both, as even more able, if not more eloquent, than that at the New 
England dinner. But it was at his peril that he came out of that crowded 
and heated room into the wintry air. The exposure was increased by 
an excursion to Plymouth Rock: so that he returned to New York, not 
better but worse. But still those about him were not alarmed: and as 
he was with a party of friends, he yielded to his urgent desire to return 
home. At Atlanta a crowd was waiting for him to cheer him for his 
success at the North, but he was too weak to receive their congratula- 
tions, and was driven directly to his home, where all that medical sldll 
could do, with the fondest love and care, was done for him, but without 
avail, and on the 23d of December, in the eai'ly morning, his brave heart 
ceased to beat. So passed away, at the age of thirty-eight years, in the 
very prime of life, the most brilliant young man of the South. One of 
the last things he said, was, " If I die, I die serving the South, the land 
I love so well. My father died fighting for it : I am proud to die speaking 
for it," words that might well be graven on his tomb.] 



CHAPTEE rV. 

FLORIDA — ST. AUGUSTINE THE PONCE DE LEON. 

It was a long night-ride from Atlanta across Georgia. 
The State is imperial in extent, and like a good many 
other gi'and things, if you have too much of it, becomes 
a trifle weai'isome. "Jordan is a hard road to travel," 
and in this respect, if in no other, Georgia is like Jordan, 
as indeed any other State would be, if you had to 
travel over it in the dark, seeing nothing, and with every 
bone in your body in pain from fatigue. I do not find 
much poetry in travelling at night, though sometimes, as I 
listen to the incessant roUing in the long dark watches, I 
try to comfort myself with the inspiring negro melody, 
" Roll, Jordan, roll ! " and to imagine that these ever-roll- 
ing wheels and fire-drawn cars are the mighty chariots of 
civilization. But all this poetry and jihilosophy I would 
give for a good sound sleep. The real necessity for these 
night -joui'neyings is that the days are not long enough, 
the distances are so great. Thus it was Georgia when we 
went to bed, and when we rose it was Georgia still, and it 
was full noon before we crossed the border into Florida. 

At last we are in the Peninsula State, and stop at Jack- 
sonville, which but a few months ago was desolated by the 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 3T 

yellow fever. But of this not a trace remains, either of the 
fever or the panic it inspired. It was hard to realize, as 
we walked along the quiet streets, that this was the place 
from which, even so late as the Autumn, the inhabitants 
were fleeing in terror. Now every precaution has been 
taken against its recurrence, and there is once more a 
feeling of perfect secimty ; and the broad and beautiful 
river that sweeps past the town does not flow more tran- 
quilly than the hves of the easy-going population. 

A couple of hours more brought us to St. Augustine. 
It was dark when we arrived, but a few minutes took us 
from the station into such a centre of stately halls and 
blazing lights and music and gay society, that we might 
have been in the very heaii; of Paris. 

St. Augustine is the oldest town in the United States, 
having been settled by the Spaniards in 1565, forty-two years 
before Captain John Smith landed at Jamestown, fifty-five 
years before the Pilgrims set foot on Plymouth Rock, and 
only seventy-three years after Columbus first saw the 
shores of the New World ! Hardily was it settled before 
it was fortified, for even in those early days enemies were 
abroad. The story of the riches of Mexico and Peru had 
filled all Europe, and the ships that bore the treasure to 
Spain tempted the sea-rovers of all nations, and the Bucca- 
neers — another name for pirates — kept watch along this 
coast for the gold that was being carried across the sea 
to fill the treasuries of the successors of Ferdinand and 
Isabella. This kind of robbery, pleasantly disguised under 
the name of war, was continued for the better part of a 
century, and even distinguished English navigators did not 
disdain to enrich themselves with the treasure of Sj)anish 
galleons. Sir Francis Drake, sailing up the coast, and 
descrying across the low sandy shore some sign of human 
habitation, landed here and burnt the town. This disaster 



38 THE OLD FORT. 

compelled the Spaniards to still greater efforts for protec= 
tion, and in place of the old stockade rose a formidable 
Fort, wliicli remains to this day, the best specimen this 
side the Atlantic of the style of fortification common in 
Eiu'ope in the Middle Ages. It covers perhaps an acre of 
ground, with walls of stone twelve feet thick, intended to 
mount a hundi'ed guns, with projecting bastions, and 
round towers at each corner of the quadrangle, from 
which sentinels kej)t watch over land and sea, the whole 
surrounded by a moat, that could be filled with water. 
Connected with this was a canal extending across the 
peninsula, so that entrance to the city could only be 
through massive gates, that were strongly guarded. The 
Fort, when fully garrisoned, would hold a thousand men. 
Thus St. Augustine was secure against any attack that was 
likely to be made upon it. 

Of course these defences would not be of much use in 
our day. A ship of war, or even a gunboat, carrying the 
heavy modern ordnance, woiild knock the old Fort to 
pieces in half an hour. No attempt is made to keej) it in 
condition. The guns are not even mounted, but lying on 
the grass, or in the moat, with pyramids of baUs beside 
them. 

The interest of the old Fort therefore is not as a forti- 
fication, but as a relic of the past. As such, it has indeed 
a strange and curious interest, mingled with suggestions 
of the barbaric warfare of those old times. For here are 
not only embrasures for guns and casemates, but dungeons 
dark as the tomb, in which j)risoners were confined. Even 
the chapel has a melancholy suggestion in the side rooms, 
where the condemned sat to listen to mass before they 
were led to execution. In one of the dark underground 
rooms two skeletons were found susi^ended to the wall, 
where j)erhaps the living had been hung in chains till they 



A SPANISH MASSACRE. 39 

Bhould exjjire. Outside the Fort, in the moat, is a pro- 
jecting wall riddled with balls, which, before being buried 
in the stone, had passed through the quivering bodies of 
the condemned who were " stood up " against this wall 
to receive the fatal shot. 

These surroundings affected me as did the old quarters 
of the Inquisition in Seville. Of course those who perish- 
ed here may have been mvirderers and deserved their fate. 
But they may have been helpless Indians, or merely 
Huguenot emigrants who landed on this inhospitable 
coast. There is nothing in the history of Spanish perse- 
cutions or massacres on the other side of the ocean, more 
cold-blooded and cruel than the massacre of some hun- 
dreds of French Huguenots, who, fleeing from persecution 
at home, sought a refuge in Florida. Shipwrecked a few 
miles south of St. Augustine, they were overpowered by 
the garrison, and were deUberately led out and butchered, 
their captors teUing them, with the exultation of fiends, 
that it was not because they were Frenchmen, but because 
they were heretics! That was the freedom to worshij) 
God which the exiles found on the shores of the New 
"World ! It was a terrible crime, and brought a terrible 
retribution : for years after, a Frenchman, filled with in- 
dignation at the horrible atrocity, fitted out an exjDedition, 
which safely crossed the sea, and landed a few miles above 
St. Augustine ; and coming suddenly upon a detached post, 
captui-ed the garrison, who were made to pay for the cru- 
elties of their leaders a few years before. The sentence 
was dehberate, and they understood it well. As they were 
marched to execution, it was announced to them that they 
suffered death, not because they were Spaniards, nor yet 
because they were Catholics, but because they were robbers 
and murderers ! 

Remembering all these things, and what cruelties had 



40 THE QUAINT OLD TOWN. 

been perpetrated by the Sj^aniards in Mexico and Peru, 
I could but think it not at all improbable that the deadly 
shots fired in this ditch of the old Foi-t at St. Augustine, 
may have struck down the innocent as often as the guilty. 

These are dark shadows on the tropical beauty and 
loveliness around, though partly hidden in the far-off twi- 
light of thi-ee centiu'ies ago. It makes one shiver even 
now to think such deeds were ever possible in this New 
"World. But again there comes a reaction, and this Span- 
ish massacre is a landmark from which we can measure 
the progress made since that bloody time, and thank God 
that such crimes can no more be committed in His name ! 

And now the old Fort is only a pictvu'esque ruin ; and 
very pictiu'esque it is to me, as I walk along the sea-wall 
at sunset, just as the evening gun fi'om the barracks in 
another part of the town signals the close of day, and 
look up to the little round towers, out of which the Sjaan- 
ish sentinels looked, to keep watch for the terrible Eng- 
lish rovers who were sweeping the seas ! 

St. Augustine is a thoroughly Spanish town, so that 
now and then, as I wander about its narrow streets, I feel 
as if I had gone astray, and were back again in some out- 
of-the-way place of Old Castile. The original settlers were 
largely fi-om the island of Minorca, and my friend, Dr. 
Anderson, who last year made a visit to Spain, crossed 
over to Port Mahon, where, from the names on the shops 
in the streets, he seemed to be among his neighbors in 
St. Augustine. These associations give a singular charm 
to this quaint old town, which is full of nooks and corners, 
about which those who are beginning to be in " the sere 
and yellow leaf " (shall I count myself among them ?) can 
wander all day long, and dream dreams and see visions. 

But after aU is said and done — after we have walked 
round and round as many times as the pilgrims to Mecca 



WHY AVE COME TO FLORIDA. 41 

walk round the holy Kaaba, in which is the black stone 
that feU down fi'om heaven — what remains ? I have 
been about the world a good deal within the last fifteen 
years, and my rule has been to see everything as rapidly 
and as thoroughly as possible, and then "move on." And 
now, after seeing Europe, Asia, and Africa, what is there 
that should detain me, or detain any man, very long in 
St. Augustine, or in Florida ? I confess there is not a 
great deal, if we come merely to see sights. The country 
is not picturesque ; no mountains rear their summits to 
the sky ; nor has it even the full beauty of the sea, for 
though almost surrounded by it, its long shore-line lies 
too near the level of the water. As you sail past it, you 
see no Dover cHffs, which look down into "the confined 
deep " ; you miss the i-ugged grandeur of a wild and stormy 
coast ; in fact, there is hardly coast enough for the waves 
to dash against, so that the mighty ocean, unless stii-red by 
a tempest, lies as flat and tame as the land beside it. In- 
deed it is not long ago that the mainland was the sea-bed, 
with the Gulf of Mexico flowing over it ; and it still has a 
drowned appearance, as if it could hardly keep its head 
out of water. 

If you turn back into the interior, the country has a 
dreary monotony. For a hundred leagues you ride through 
an endless succession of pine barrens, and as you look list- 
lessly through your car window, you ask, " Why do our 
Northern people come to Florida?" And yet for thou- 
sands of them this desolate country has a strange fascina- 
tion. "What can it be ? 

It is all expressed in one word — climate. Though the 
land be flat, the sky is blue, and bends over the earth with 
a warm and loving embrace, and the soft and balmy air 
seems to have di'opped do^\^l from heaven itself, as if it 
were the very atmosphere that angels breathe. 



42 THE CLIMATE THAT OF E(iTPT. 

Such a climate I have formd indeed elsewhere, but far 
from home. If one could choose absolute perfection, I 
should say that the perfect Winter climate of the world is 
that of Egypt, where there are no swamps and no jungle, 
but every particle of miasma is absorbed by the hot air 
of the surrounding deserts. I speak from my own ob- 
servation, as I have been twice in Egypt, and some years 
since spent several weeks on the Nile, where I seemed to be 
floating in Paradise. But that is very far away : I supj)Ose a 
man who should take the fastest steamer, and rush through 
England and across France and Italy day and night, and 
catch the steamer from Brindisi for Alexandria, might 
reach Egypt in fifteen days ; but he can reach Florida in 
thirty hoiu'S, without the fatigue and discomfoii of a sea 
voyage, and all this wear and tear of his mortal frame. 
And when he gets here, he has found, not Egypt indeed, 
but a country that holds about the same place on the 
earth's surface. Florida is in the same latitude, and has 
very much the same climate. To be specific, the G-reat 
PjTamid stands exactly on the 30th pai-allel. St. Augus- 
tine differs from it by less than one-quarter of a degree, 
its latitude being 29 degrees, 48 minutes, and 30 seconds ! 
Owing to the deserts, the climate of Egypt is drier ; while 
the Gulf Stream, flowing near to the Florida coast, makes 
its atmosphere moist as well as warm. 

Many who come to Florida feel as if, for the first time 
in their lives, they knew what it was to breathe. "When I 
was in Madi-id, I observed that the Spaniards always went 
about wrapped in cloaks, the right skirt of which they 
tossed over the left shoulder in a way to cover the mouth, 
the reason of which is given in the Spanish proverb, that 
the air of Madrid, " while it might not blow out a candle, 
could put out a life." In our Northern cities many have 
to take similar precautions, going about muffled up to the 



THE ATMOSPHERE. 43 

chin, and even covering their faces, lest they should inhale 
the keen and frosty air. 

Such chronic invalids, v^^ho have been all their lives 
taking care of their health, come to Florida and find that 
it takes care of itself. The consumptive and the asthmatic 
throw off theii- wrappings, and have a new sense of free- 
dom, since they are not afraid of nature's best medicine, 
the pure air of heaven. They do not have to " catch their 
breath " ; to gasp for it ; but take a long, deejD inhalation, 
which causes their lungs to expand as never before. Such 
breathing is a luxury that makes life worth living. I find 
the atmosphere so exhilarating, that I can never get 
enough of it. When I am walking along the bay, or riding 
through the woods, in some lonely spot where I shall not 
be observed, I " open my mouth wide," according to the 
Bible direction, to drink in the heavenly air. 

But to get the benefit of aU this, one must have a habi- 
tation. When I was on the desert, on the way to Mount 
Sinai, I hved in tents, like Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob ; but 
yovi can hardly live in a tent in Florida. Even in the pine 
woods you must have a roof over your head, if it be only a 
log cabin. The old-fashioned Southern houses were roomy 
and comfortable, and their long and wide verandas ftu:- 
nished a cool retreat in the heat of the day. In still hotter 
cHmates, as in India, this is the chief thing to be regarded. 
In the Indian bungalow, it may almost be said that the 
main idea is to have a veranda with a house throivn in, the 
domestic arrangements and the sleejDing apartments being 
mere attachments to the great lounging place, where men 
sit all day long, and far into the night, smoking and talk- 
ing, and where the real life of the people goes on. 

The first hotels in the South were merely enlargements 
of the old houses on the plantations. Some of those in 
St. Augustine were modelled on this plan, and answered 



44 HOTEL ARCHITECTURE. 

the purpose of tlie travelling public very Avell, until tliey 
were succeeded by one so iinique and so magnificent, as 
to deserve a detailed description. 

Connoisseurs of fine arcliitectiu'e are not apt to look 
for models in liotels, but in churches and cathedrals ; in 
palaces and stately mansions. The city of New York 
abounds in hotels, but it has not one that is worth looking 
at for its architecture. " The Windsor," if it stood out in 
the country, beside a stream of water, would be taken for 
a pajjer mill or a cotton factory. Or it might be some 
public institution, whose needs required that which was 
useful rather than ornamental ; as its stories are all just 
alike, with just so many windows, of just the same size, as 
if they opened into the small rooms intended for the wards 
of an asylum. There is some excuse for this in a crowded 
city, where the largest buildings must be put on a line 
with the street, to utilize every foot of sj)ace, for there is 
not room to have a great central court. This must be 
reserved for a situation less crowded, where there is more 
elbow-room. It is also more suited to a climate wai-mer 
than that of the Noi*th — conditions which seem to meet in 
this old Sj)anish town of St. Augustine. And so it came 
to pass quite naturally that a gentleman of New York, who 
had been here often enough to apj^reciate the place, and 
see its possibilities, should have a mind to build a Hotel 
after his own fancy, that should meet all requirements, 
and be a welcome retreat for those who, fleeing from the 
severe Winters of the North, should seek a i^lace of health 
and of rest. He saw that the Spanish style of architecture 
was best adapted to a warm climate : and having the good 
fortune to engage an architect who entered with sjiirit 
into the design, despatched him to Sj^ain, to study the 
best sj)ecimens of Spanish architectiu'e in Toledo, Cordova, 
Seville, and Granada. The result has been a structure 



THE PONCE DE LEON. 45 

qiiite unique in this country, and the like of which I have 
not seen anywhere. 

Having ample space, there was no need to crowd any- 
tliing ; so that the building, instead of being one huge 
mass, could be thrown into pavilions, grouped round a 
great court, with its fountain and flowers ; with projecting 
balconies (which, if not crowded with Spanish senoritas, 
are none the less charming with American ladies); and 
belfry-like towers, rising at the angles, with open arches, 
from which one can overlook the town, and look far out to 
sea ; and that are hung at night with many-colored lights, 
which shed their varied rays upon the enchanted scene. 

Such is the general plan. But of coiu'se, in a building 
of such extent, there is no end of details, which have to 
be worked out with the utmost care. Now I do not pro- 
fess to know much about architecture ; but, like a good 
many others, I know just enough to find fault. Without 
technical knowledge, I have an instinct of proportion 
and of harmony, which detects what is not in accord 
with them, even when it may be difficult to point out just 
where the fault lies. If I go into a new church, and it be 
too long for its width, or the ceiling be too high or too 
low, I "feel it in my bones." So in the decoration of a 
room, or the furnishing of it, if there be a want of har- 
mony of color, rmjfiesh begins to creep before I can tell pre- 
cisely what is the matter. In this way I have gone about 
the Ponce de Leon, not with a measuring line in my hand, 
but trusting solely to my eye, and I have not been able to 
detect a single fault. " The height and the length and the 
breadth of it," are not "equal," but they are in perfect 
proportion. As an editor, true to his calling, I have been 
a little disappointed that I could not find something to 
criticize ; but I give it up. Nor have I found any glaring 
color which offends my taste. On the walls and ceilings 



46 THE PONCE DE LEON. 

and even in the furnishing, in carpets and ciuiains and 
upholstery, everything is subdued to that soft and quiet 
tone which is most pleasing and grateful to the eye. 

Nor is there in the whole structure a single piece of 
cheap voork, where unsound places are covered up with lath 
and plaster. This is a great deal to say in these days 
(when huge buildings tumble down with their own weight, 
and others show cracks in the walls), that here is a struc- 
ture of immense size and cost, every cubic foot of which 
is solid from the foundation to the capstone. 

The erection of such a building is not only a notable 
event in the way of art, but reflects the greatest credit 
upon those who designed it, and the powerful friend who 
stood behind them, and furnished the munitions of war. 
It shows genius as well as skill in the young architects who 
wrought upon it for three years, and who by this work 
alone must take rank with the most promising of the 
architects of our country. I am j^roud to say that one of 
them is the son of my fi'iend for more than thirty years, 
the Rev. Dr. Hastings, President of the Union Theological 
Seminary of New York. 

But with aU their genius, they could have produced no- 
thing so perfect if they had been hampered or restricted by 
the desire for economy on the part of the owner. There are 
many who begin with great designs, but, like the man in 
the Gospel, " are not able to finish," or they get frightened 
at the magnitude of their own undertakings, and suddenly 
begin to take in sail, to cut down the estimates, and to 
cheapen everything. If he who undertook to build the 
Ponce de Leon had been of that temper, it would have 
soon come to grief, for when money is going out at a fear- 
ful rate, most men who have put their hand to the j^lough 
not only "look hack" but look very hlack also. Not so with 
its projector. On the contrary, I hear that during the 



THE MAN" WHO " ONLY SIGNED THE CHECKS." 4T 

progress of the work, if he ever made a criticism, it was to 
express a fear that this or that was not good enough, or 
rich enough, or handsome enough. Instead of holding in 
the architects, he gave them free rein, and spurred them 
on to do their very best. 

And who is he that has stood behind this great under- 
taking from the first, never flinching even when the cost 
mounted up into the millions ? It is a gentleman who 
writes a part of his name as I write mine (though unfortu- 
nately I cannot complete the signatiu'e), IMr. Heniy M. 
Flagler of New York, who, ha\ing conceived the project, 
had the nerve to carry it through ; and who, instead of 
taking the honor to himself, rates his part very lightly, 
giving all the credit to the architects, saying modestly that 
he " only signed the checks ! " This was a mere trifle. 
Only somehow we find that, however elaborate may be the 
design, and however vast the preparations, but for this 
httle matter of " signing the checks," the wheels will not 
move. But indeed in this statement he does not do justice 
to himself. For if he did not draw the plans, he had the 
taste to know a good thing when he saw it, and, having 
faith in his architects, to give them carte blanche to carry out 
the magnificent design. Out of this combination of means, 
genius, and will, came the structure which fitly bears the 
name of the old Spanish navigator who first set foot upon 
these shores. 

But a single building is by no means the limit of this 
benefaction. The Ponce de Leon has two large annexes, 
in two massive piles, with Spanish names — the Cordova 
and the Alcazar. In the rear of the latter rises a dome 
which might be the roof of a mosque, and which has 
under it what may be found in the outer courts of St. 
Sophia, and of all the great mosques of the Moslem wo-rld, 
viz : plentiful means of ablution, for here is arranged a 



48 A POOL OF BETHE3DA. 

system of Baths tlie most comj)lete that I have seen any- 
where on this side the Atlantic or the other. The Eussian 
baths are as complete as the most luxurious in St. Peters- 
burg, and the Turkish equal to any in Constantinople. 
In both of them the stranger wiU find stalwart creatures, 
speaking a foreign tongue, but who seem to understand 
their business ; who will take him in hand, and steam him 
tiU it seems as if every drop of perspiration were oozing 
from his body, and plunge him into the depths, and bring 
him up again (still alive !), and "douche " him, and at last, 
after he has been a long time, as it seems, in the hands of 
the tormentors, will have mercy upon him, and bring him to 
gently, and rub him with soft warm towels, till there comes 
over him a delicious feeling, as if he were, though still in 
the body, a being of another sphere, piu'ified and glorified, 
freed from the stains of sin, and indeed rather too good 
for this world. If after this there should reappear a trace 
of original sin, it may be necessary, on the second or third 
day, to repeat the ablution ! 

But the great feature of the Baths is a Pool, a hundred 
and fifty feet long, continually supplied with water fi'om 
an artesian well, which is the largest in the world. As this 
is tinctured with sulphur, the stream is carried over the 
roof of an adjoining building, where it is exjjosed to the 
air, and is so thoroughly aerated that it is as fi'esh and 
pure as if it were fi'om a mountain sj)ring. This supply 
of water fi'om above instead of below, has a pretty effect, 
as it falls into the Pool in a cascade, which keeps it always 
stirring, as if the angel of healing were descending into 
the waters. In this ample si)ace swimmers at all hours 
are plunging and splashing, while the band discoui'ses 
inspiring music, and the galleries are crowded with spec- 
tators looking down upon the animated scene. • 

Here is health united with pleasure — a combination 



A BUILDER OF CHURCHES. 49 

whicli ought to make us forever grateful to him who has 
furnished both. The Koran pronounces a blessing upon the 
man who oj^ens a fountain in the desert, or plants a tree 
that the pilgrim may rest under its shade ! What bless- 
ing ought to be his who has opened a Pool of Bethesda, 
that wiU continue to flow long after he is gone, to be for 
the comfort and the healing of many generations ! 

But Mr. Flagler's efforts for the pubhc good are not 
confined to the physical purification of his fellow-crea- 
tiu'es. He has built two churches. The Methodist came 
first, as they are pioneers in almost everything ; and now 
he has built us Presbyterians such a " cathedral " that we 
are persuaded that we have the apostoHc succession, and 
are the true, if not the only true. Church. A man who has 
supplied such physical and spiritual purification, has cer- 
tainly done his part both for "cleanliness and godliness." 

And now is it not time for him to stop ? After these 
years of labor, the work he has undertaken for St. Augus- 
tine must be nearing completion, so that it can all, to use 
a common phrase, be " fenced in and painted." " Done ? " 
It wiU never be done as long as he lives. Indeed it is aU 
the time extending ; even now he is opening new avenues, 
paving new streets, buUding a railway station here, and 
an ii'on bridge across the St. John's at Jacksonville, just 
to keep his hand in ; so that if he lives ten years longer, 
(as he ought, for he is hardly turned of sixty,) he will be 
recognized, not only as the constructor of a beautiful build- 
ing, but as the founder of a city. 

Of course this marvellous creation, that has sprung up 
in Florida, hke Tadmor in the wilderness, is the wonder of 
everybody who comes here, and it is amusing to observe 
the look of surprise of new comers, and hear their expres- 
sions of astonishment. And yet the American feeling will 
crop out, and after they have exhausted their admiration, 



50 " DOES IT PAY ? " 

one is siire to bear the subdued question, "Does it pay f " 
as if notbing great could ever be done except as a specu- 
lation ; and tbere are many mysterious inquii'ies as to 
what could be the motive of this lavish expenditure so far 
away from the commercial centres of the country. There 
is no mystery about the matter. A man who has for many 
years made his annual visits to this portion of the South, 
till it has become as attractive to him as it was to Ponce de 
Leon, (when, enraptured by its perpetual bloom, he named 
it Florida, the Land of Flowers,) takes it into his mind to 
create a paradise of beauty somewhat in keeping with the 
gorgeous tropical vegetation. Fond of grand architecture, 
and having the means to gratify his taste, he conceives the 
idea of a building unique in its structure and in its sur- 
roundings, which shall be " a thing of beauty " and " a joy 
forever." "Whether it will pay in the common sense, does 
not enter into his calculations, any more than it does into 
the mind of one who gives himself a costly library or 
gallery of j^aintings. He does it, as an artist paints a 
picture, for the pleasure of doing it. Is there anything 
more natural or more reasonable than this ? It is indeed 
something to be proud of, in this commonplace and prosaic 
age, that there should be one man bold enough to form a 
design, and to carry it out without flinching, which is sim- 
ply to put into stone " a beautiful dream." 

Whether it may not in the end pay even pecuniarily, is 
a question. When St. Augustine becomes, as we believe it 
will, the great Winter resort of the United States, and a 
city grows uj) around these marvellous buildings, standing 
in the midst of open squares, as a centre, it is not at aU 
improbable that the money " sunk " so many years before, 
may yield a full and even ample return. But whether it 
does or not, is a matter which does not disturb their 
builder at all. If it does not pay in money, it pays in 



REST AVITH OCCUPATION. 51 

another and better way ; and we can assure any anxious 
inquirer that the creator of all this luxury gets a retiUTi 
every day in the sight of the pleasure that it gives. 

The best of it all is that his beautiful creation is for the 
pubUe good. Palaces abroad are for kings and princes. 
This American palace is open to all — a place of rest and 
health, as weU as of luxury and enjoyment : and he who 
has placed it within reach of his countrymen, is a pubhc 
benefactor. 

In this dehghtful retreat I settled down for a "Winter 
vacation. Some may think it a strange place to seek for 
qmet, in the midst of so much gayety. But the Ponce de 
Leon is a perfect Liberty HaU. Every man does what is 
right in his own eyes. He can have as much of society, 
or as little, as he pleases. As it was not for this that I 
came, I did not seek it, though entertained by the sight 
of what passed before my eyes. But to me the charm 
of the place was its perfect rest, the sweet oblivion of 
care. Not that I was idle. I cotdd not stand that. I 
do not find rest in idleness and vacancy, but in change of 
scene and of occupation. A portion of every day I spent 
in writing ; but it was very different from writing in an 
office in New York. Here my desk was at an open win- 
dow, through which came, not only the soft and balmy 
air, but the music of the band playing in the court below. 
This did not disturb me, but rather gave an inspu-ation 
to my thoughts. With such an accompaniment, I found a 
pleasure in keeping up communication with the world. If 
after four or five hours I felt a little weary, I started out 
on a tramp ; or a ride through the woods, or a sail on the 
water, made a pleasant close to the happy day. 

But the place was not without its excitements, though 
these were of such a mild character as not to be dangerous. 
Strangers- were constantly coming and going, so that the 



52 OLD FRIENDS AND NEW FRIENDS. 

Rotunda of the Ponce de Leon was a kind of Exchange, 
where you met people from every city of the North, find- 
ing old acquaintances and making new ones. Among the 
habitues were some who had been in different parts of the 
world, with whom an old traveller like myself could have 
many a pleasant hour; while young men and maidens 
strolled in the grounds in the moonlight, or took their 
l^leasure in the ways they most delight in. 

In this company, which embraced first and last a good 
many notable people, I was most attracted to the creator 
of all this beauty and luxury, of whom I am restrained 
from saying all that is in my heart lest I should offend his 
modesty, for he is one of the most unassuming of men. 
Seldom is so much strength united with so much sweet- 
ness. A man who can do a kindness with such delicacy 
that he makes you feel as if you were coufemng a favor 
ujDon him in accepting it, is a master in the fine art of 
courtesy. Nor was it to me only. So far as I could see, 
he was the same, though in a more general way, to every 
one. For weeks we were constantly together, always 
sitting at the same table, and in all that time I never saw 
him in the least excited ; never heard him speak a work of 
impatience to anybody or of anybody. I felt this daily 
association to be a pleasure constantly renewed, and I 
count it the chief satisfaction of my visit to St. Augustine, 
that it gave me the opportunity of knowing somewhat 
intimately one whom I am proud to call my friend. 



CHAPTEK V. 
SOUTH FLORIDA JUPITER INLET. 

"Tou don't know Jupiter Inlet?" Neither did I a 
week ago : for aught I knew, it might be some newly 
discovered point in the planet Jupiter ; but now that I do 
know it, how can I help being Hfted up with the vanity of 
superior knowledge, and looking down upon those who do 
not know it, as showing ignorance of American geography ? 
Perhaps you will think a place not worth knowing where 
(aside from the Light-house, the Signal Station, and the 
Life-Saving Station) there is but one house, and travellers 
have to find lodging in an old steamboat that is moored 
to the wharf ! But I will not raise the curtain too soon. 
First of aU, where is it ? 

If you will take a map and run your eye down the 
Atlantic Coast, you will find its lower portion protected by 
an almost continuous reef, broken here and there into long 
and low-lying islands, which form a natural breakwater 
against the ocean. Between this and the mainland is a 
succession of lagunes, which, with trifling interruptions, 
furnish a complete inland navigation for hundreds of miles. 
At long distances there are openings or " Inlets " in this 
ocean barrier, through which light boats, and in some 



54 NEW SETTLEMENTS IN THE PINE WOODS. 

cases large ships, can pass, if they see a storm approach- 
ing, and take refuge in these sheltered waters. One of 
these "Inlets" far down on the coast, hears the mighty 
name of " Jupiter." To this distant point two gentlemen 
connected with one of the great raih'oad systems of Florida 
— iVIr. Mason Young, a name Avell known in New York, and 
]Mi-. Alfred Bishop Mason, a name equally well known in 
Chicago — were about to make a visit, and invited me to 
keep them companj^ As the journey was partly by rail 
and partly by boat, it gave opportunity to see both the 
interior and the river and coast scenery. 

At Palatka we crossed the St. John's, a river which, 
contrary to what we are accustomed to consider the natural 
coiu'se of rivers, runs north, so that, as far as we followed 
it, we were going up stream, though down south. Travel- 
ling in a private car, we were a little company by oiu'selves, 
and I was happy to find that there was a lady in the party, 
whose society gave all that was wanting to make it com- 
plete. As the car was attached to the train at the end, 
and had plate-glass windows on both sides and in the rear, 
we had an unobstructed view of the country as we rolled 
swiftly by. New settlements were sprinkled here and 
there : sometimes houses would be standing alone in the 
pine woods, and at others half a dozen would be clustered 
together so as to form the nucleus of a village. In the 
latter case there was sure to be a New England air about 
the place, indicated in the fenced grounds and fi-amed 
houses, neatly boarded and painted, with a pretty chiu-ch 
and school-house in the centre — which showed where the 
first settlers came from. This part of Florida is largely 
settled by people from the North, and I am told, that while 
there is no conflict between them and the poor whites 
known as the " Crackers," yet that the latter, finding them- 
selves unable to compete with the more industrious habits 



EXPERIENCE OF AN OLD ARMY OFFICER. 55 

of the new comers, are generally quite willing to sell out 
their plantations, which have been run down by long neg- 
lect, and move off into the less settled parts of the South, 
to begin life anew. Their successors here have tried other 
methods of cultivation, the result of which is seen in the 
orange groves, richly laden with the golden fruit, that 
extend for miles along the road. 

Look at this pretty village of Seville, that in spite of 
its Spanish name, might have been transplanted from 
Massachusetts, since we see in it, what is very rare in 
Florida, a well-kept laicn, which shows that with proper 
care it is possible to have the green turf of New England. 
Here several friends joined us, and added to the gayety of 
our little party. One gentleman, an old army officer, gave 
me his experience of life in his new home. He had come 
here broken in health, almost seeking a place to die ; but 
after awhile concluded that it was better to live ; and took 
his section, of a hundred and sixty acres, to which he was 
entitled by his soldier's warrant, on which he planted, not 
his "vineyard and olive-yard," like the ancient Jew in 
Palestine, but his orange grove ; and in due time found 
himself not only reestablished in health, but prospering in 
his worldly affairs. Lest, however, anybody should jump 
to the conclusion that he has but to move to Florida and 
plant an orange grove, to be rich, it shoiild be added that 
from the time of planting to the time of bearing will take 
eight or ten years ; so that none need try it who have not 
some little capital to start upon, and above all a large 
stock of New England thrift, patience, and perseverance. 
I could not but listen with wonder to his report of the 
productiveness of Florida, which reminded me of the mar- 
vellous tales that I had heard in Southern CaHfomia. At 
first I was a little incredidous : for the country looked 
very barren, and I thought it must be poor and unpro- 



56 ON THE INDIAN RIVER. 

ductive. But lie explained that, -while this soil would 
not produce much at the North, it would here, owing to 
the greater warmth, combined with the greater moisture. 
The elements which enter into vegetation come not from 
the soil alone, but from the air, the vapor, and the dew, the 
rain and the sunshine, all of w^hich are supplied from the 
resources of nature ; so that if man wiU but help a little, 
giving very moderate cultivation, the earth wiU bring 
forth abundantly. 

Nor is this prodigality of nature confined to the sub- 
tropical fruits, but extends equally to aU the produce of 
the garden (Irish potatoes growing as well as sweet pota- 
toes), to peas and tomatoes and cauliflowers, from which 
it seems probable that with the increased production from 
year to year, and sufficient transportation (for already it is 
said that the raih'oads are not able to carry the crops), 
Florida will soon be able to supply the markets of Wash- 
ington, Baltimore, Philadelphia, and New York, with green 
peas and early potatoes, and all the produce of vegetable 
gardens, a month or six wrecks before they can be obtained 
from Charleston and Savannah. 

The road that we had been following continues to 
Tampa Bay, where it connects with a line of steamers to 
Cuba, which will land the traveller in Havana in thirty 
hours, or in three and a half days from New York, instead 
of the week now taken by steamer. This will fiu-nish also 
the quickest route to South American ports. As we how- 
ever were bound to a point on the Atlantic coast, we left 
the main line at Enterprise, and turned eastward, and in 
an hour were at Titusville, where the train ran down to 
the wharf beside the steamer, and at three o'clock we were 
afloat on the Indian river— a name hitherto known to us 
only by its dehcious oranges, but now to be kno^\•n by its 
beautiful scenery. But fii'st of all, it is not a river at 



THE PALMS WHISPER TO THE PINES. 51 

all, but simply an arm of the sea, a long lagune, which in 
some places is three or four, or even five and six, miles 
broad. The beauty of it is on its western bank, where the 
low, flat country rising a few feet above the water, is digni- 
fied with the name of a hlvff. Its apparent elevation is 
heightened by its being densely wooded with palms ! Not 
indeed the stately date-palms of Egypt, but only with the 
" cabbage palm," so named fi'om its cabbage-like head, but 
which stUl, with its tall trunk and tufted crown, forms a 
striking figure in the landscape, giving it more of a tropical 
character than anything I had seen before, and as I sat on 
the deck in the gloaming, and watched the shores growing 
dim, memory went back to the old days when I floated 
past groves of palms on the banks of the Nile. 

All along this bank there are plantations, the houses 
peering out from under the trees, and every few miles a 
little village, from which a projecting wharf gives facilities 
for the conveyance of travellers and the shipment of freight. 
The most considerable of these river-towns is Rock Ledge, 
to which they brought President Cleveland and his wife on 
their visit to Florida last year, to show them the beauty of 
the country — where w^e landed and walked a mile along 
the bank, past a succession of pretty Wiater retreats, 
embowered in palms. 

Back of the palms were the orange groves in all their 
luxuriance : but the orange region ends soon after, oranges 
giving place to fruits of a more tropical character. The 
guava is cultivated for the jelly made from it, of which 
there is a manufactory on Merritt's Island, the product of 
which is shipped largely to Northern cities ; and at Eden, 
a few miles farther south, is a very extensive plantation of 
pineapples, which are grown here with entire success. 

The morning found us still floating southward, which 
soon brought us into the narrows of the Indian river, where 



58 THE AMPHIBIOUS MANGROVES. 

for some miles it is not wider than the Housatonic at 
Stockbridge, while the dense vegetation on either hand 
was delightfully suggestive of the willows that bend over 
our beautiful stream. Here the palms give place to man- 
groves, the tree that lives in water, in swamps, and on the 
banks of streams. This amphibious character is almost a 
necessity, for as the country itself is so largely under water, 
if trees could only find a foothold on dry land, there would 
be no vegetation at all. And yet, to comiDlete the contra- 
dictions, these trees, which live in water, have half their 
roots above water as well as above ground, so that they 
seem to be standing on stilts. They are like the blue 
herons that we see in these waters, putting their long 
skinny legs without fear into the ooze and slime of the 
river bed, while they carry their brilliant plumage high in 
air. I have been watching these bii'ds with admiration to 
see how, while the flocks of ducks go " scooting " by, the 
herons stand with quiet dignity, stepping slowly with eye 
cast downward till they spy the looked-for fish, which is 
snapped up in an instant, when they spread their wings 
and soar majestically away. What the herons and the 
cranes are among birds, the mangroves are among trees, 
standing on long legs, that are naked as bones, and yet, 
carrying crowns of verdui'e on their heads. As their foliage 
is a vivid green, the two banks form a beautiful fringe to 
the waters, so calm and still, that flow between. 

The navigation through this mass of vegetation is very 
intricate. The river has so many twists and turns, that it 
seems as if it could only be threaded by a rowboat. The 
mazes would be quite impenetrable for a steamer, except 
one of the lightest draft. Our boat, the St. Lucie, draws 
but nineteen inches of water, and is propelled by a wheel 
at the stern. Yet even with this light buUd, she finds it 
difficult to work her way through, and has to be handled 



INTRICATE NAVIGATION. 59 

witli the greatest care. At sucli times tlie captain, whose 
name of " Bravo " indicates his Spanish origin, and who 
is very proud of his new boat (this was her second trip), 
not trusting to any one but himself, throws off his coat, 
that he may have free use for his strong arms, and takes 
his place at the wheel. In some places a channel has been 
marked by stakes just wide enough for her to squeeze 
through. Sometimes she swings with the current, or with 
the tide (for we are nearing the sea), and as she is 122 feet 
long, she touches the bank on both sides, and the negroes 
have to push her off with their poles at one end and the 
other. Then the captain is in his element, shouting right 
and left "All dare ihar ? " till after a tug of a few minutes 
the boat eases uj), and swings into her place, and as she 
moves forward, the boatmen, relieved of their strain, break 
out in some negro melody, that makes a pleasant accom- 
paniment to the motion of the boat as she glides gently 
through the water. And thus at noon of the second day, 
we reached Jupiter Inlet on the coast, nearly three hun- 
dred miles south of St. Augustine. 

Having reached this remote quarter of the world, we 
look round to see if there be an;)i:hing worth coming for. 
It does not look very promising. There is but one house, 
and that I have not been into. Yet here I have spent three 
days on an old steamboat, with about as many resotu'ces 
as Robinson Crusoe had on his desolate island. No ! that 
is " putting it rather strong " : for Robinson Crusoe, with 
aU his handicraft and skill in using pieces of wreck to 
make his island castle, never had anything so habitable as 
the good old Chattahoochee ; and for company he had to 
content himself with his man Friday, while here I have 
three charming companions. Still, stranded on this Florida 
coast, which has been strown with hundreds of wrecks, it 
does not take much imagination to fancy oiu'selves cast 



60 THE CHATTAHOOCHEE. 

away on a desolate island. But if the experience be new, 
it is not unpleasant ; on the contrary, it is deHglitful now 
and then to come into this close contact with nature, and 
to be living for a few days like babes in the woods. 

The old steamer which is our home, has itself a history. 
Its very name tells the place of its birth, on the Chattahoo- 
chee river, which in the times before the flood — that is, 
before the war — was a great highway of commerce, bring- 
ing the product of the cotton fields of Georgia and Alabama 
to Apalachicola, then the third cotton port of the United 
States, but which is now all overgrown with weeds, since 
the opening of railroads has diverted its trade to other 
commercial centres. In those days she was a famous 
steamboat, and even still, if her fires were lighted, would 
show her heels to many a boat that has not seen half her 
years ; but she is now honorably retii-ed, and moored in 
a quiet haven, and being fitted up for her present use, 
serves as a kind of wayside, or i-ather seaside, inn, and is a 
truly dehghtful place of rest for wanderers like ourselves. 

We arrived Satvu'day noon. Hardly had we sat down 
to dinner, before one of the party invited me to take a 
drive with him in the afternoon to Lake Worth, and we 
were soon mounted in a rough country wagon, drawn by 
a pair of mtdes, with which we went jolting over the road. 
Once out of the border of trees that skirt the water side, 
and on what might be called the open jDrairie, our course 
was straight as an arrow, for it was along the track of a 
railroad which has just been laid out, and is only waiting 
for the rails, so that we had not to turn to the right or 
left, but only to " plough ahead " through the deep sand. 
"And what does this ride across country remind you of ? " 
" Why, of dear old Nantucket." Sure enough, it was the 
ride to Sconset over again. The rough plain was like a 
Scottish moor, bleak and bare, though instead of the gorse 



LAKE WORTH. 61 

and heather, it was covered with the coarse pahnetto grass, 
which, though now mere useless stubble, is said to furnish 
the finest possible material for paper, if it were within 
reach of a port, fi-om which it could be shipped to the 
Northern markets. The country was not so dismally flat 
as much of that we had passed over, but shghtly roUing. 
These swells of ground are really sand-dunes cast up by 
the waves, and rising over them one after another, we came 
at last in full view of the ocean. 

A mUe or two farther brought us to Late Worih, or 
rather to one end of it — the smaller of the twin lakes — 
which in New England we should caU a pond. It is a 
lonely spot, on which stands a sohtary house, with the 
master of which 'Mx. Young had some business, and whose 
name, to my surprise, was the same as my own. While 
they were engaged in conversation, I turned to the young 
wife and learned that her husband was the son of my old 
fi'iend Richard Field, of Bound Brook, New Jersey, who 
more than forty years ago was a trustee of the church in 
St. Louis of which I was the youthful pastor. The husband 
added, on learning my name, that I had baptized him ! 
This was indeed finding a lost sheep in the wilderness. I 
could but hope that the grace communicated in baptism, 
whatever that might be, had not wholly departed from him. 

The place is quite out of the world, but it wiU not 
always be so, for it Hes in the pathway of progress. If it 
had not been Saturday afternoon, and we could have con- 
tinued our excursion a little farther, we should have seen 
more of its possibilities ; for, taking a boat and rounding 
yonder point, we should have come into the larger part of 
Lake Worth, where is the promise of one of the most 
beautiful Winter resorts in Florida. On a ridge of land 
between the lake and the ocean, are akeady several gentle- 
men's places, with extensive grounds laid out as if by a 



62 CARRYIxVG THE MAIL OX FOOT. 

landscape gardener. The air is deliciously soft because of 
the nearness of the Giilf Stream, which, coming up from 
the Gulf of Mexico, is here so wedged in between the main 
land and the Bahamas (only eighty miles distant) that it 
almost touches the coast. The vegetation of the country 
also takes another step, for these plantations are not of 
oranges, nor pineapj)les, nor bananas, but cocoanut palms, 
which shows that we are advancing towards the tropics. 
Indeed, it is only by taking such a stretch through the 
interior and along the coast of Florida, that we realize 
how many degrees of latitude are traversed by this mighty 
Peninsula, in which we j)ass fi'om one climate to another. 

On how grand a scale is everything here, we may see 
by another measurement of distances. Not only is the 
State immense in territory, but it has counties that are 
larger than some of our Northern States. For example, 
the county in which we now are, begins far up on the 
Indian river, and yet the count^'^-seat is sixty miles (a 
whole degree of latitude) to the south of us, to reach which 
one must pass through a country so destitute of inhabitants 
that the mail has to be carried on foot ! There is not a 
wagon road, nor even a mule path ! The carrier has to 
tramp the whole distance, taking two days for the journey 
there, and two days for the return. Sometimes (as a resi- 
dent informed me) he carries one letter, and sometimes his 
mail-pouch is empty ! But it has to go ! 

This lonely journey, as might be sujiposed, is attended 
with a good deal of difficulty, and with some danger. 
There are rivers to be crossed, for which a boat must be 
always ready. Last year a postman came to the bank, and 
found that some tramp had taken his skiff and rowed him- 
self to the other side, and left it there. Full of patriotic 
zeal to do his duty, the faithful messenger, 

"Accoutred as he was, plunged in " ; 



"LIMITATIONS OF RESPONSIBILITY." 63 

but "before he could reach the other side, a man-eating 
shark had seized him, and with no respect for a govern- 
ment officer, made a meal of him ! I hope it was a 
consolation to him that he died in the performance of his 
duty. His country could ask no more. Some years since 
President Wayland published a book on " The Limitations 
of Responsibility." It is a nice question in many cases 
where responsibility ends ; but I think the most severe 
moralist would agree that a man who had been eaten up 
by a shark, could not be expected to appear at roll-call the 
next morning 1 

But these dangers will not always attend this service, 
since this state of isolation wiU not continue, for it is pro- 
posed to bring the local government sixty miles nearer by 
transferring the county-seat to the north side of Lake 
Worth, indeed planting it on the farm-land of my name- 
sake, -who offers to give the ground for the court-house. If 
he shoidd also give a site for a religious purpose, and in 
time there should spring up a little church in the wilder- 
ness, I sho\ild think that the water of baptism which I had 
poured upon his childish head, had not been sprinkled in 
vain. 

It was late in the afternoon when we turned homeward. 
By this time the air had changed. In coming over, it was 
so warm (though it was the 2d of February) that I had to 
raise my umbrella to protect me from the sun, and should 
have been glad of a straw hat. But now it was the cool 
of the day, and we drew our overcoats about us. Yet the 
ride was more beautiful than before, for as the twilight feU 
on the landscape, its bareness was softened, and as it were 
clothed with a mantle, by the gathering shades of evening, 
and we saw before us only the dim outline of a wide sweep 
of country rolling like the sea, as if it were keeping 
measure with " Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste," 



64 A SABBATH ON THE STILL WATERS. 

wliile the silence was broken only by the dashing of the 
waves. On our left a new moon hung its crescent in the 
sky, and above it shone the evening star. One by one the 
stars came out, tiU the firmament was all aglow with the 
celestial fires. I was a Httle confused not to find the con- 
stellations in their accustomed places. The change of 
fourteen degrees of latitude, from New York to Jupiter 
Inlet, had upset things, and it was not till I was on the 
deck of the steamer that I could take my bearings. I 
found the Dipper, though with the handle turned down- 
ward, but the last two stars still pointed faithfully to the 
north. It was a relief to find that " all things continued 
as they were from the beginning," and that suns and 
systems still revolved around " the steady pole." 

As I woke the next morning, I missed the dear faces 
and the dear voices that make a part of the Sabbath at 
home ; but it was not all silent and vacancy. There were 
friends who made a little home circle even so far away ; 
and there was another presence, as on the gentle air of 
morning came the Angel of Peace. It is not necessary 
that the Sabbath should be ushered in by the ringing of 
bells : it can come to us in the solitary place where no 
man is. Some of the sweetest that I have ever known, 
have been in almost absolute solitude. Years ago I spent 
a Sabbath in the "Wilderness, on the way to Mount 
Sinai, when we camped where Moses camped, in the Wady 
Feiran, a deep valley suiTounded by mountains ; and at 
sunset climbed the very peak on which he prayed while 
Israel fought with Amalek, and Aaron and Hur held up 
his hands till the going down of the sun. Here we are 
not among rocks and mountains, but amid woods and 
waters ; but here, as there, is the same stillness and rest, 
the same absence of all intrusion fi'om the world, and the 
same sense of being brought nearer to God. 



THE SIGNAL STATION. 65 

Across the water, hardly a stone's throw from us, stood 
the Lighthouse and the Signal Station, and they had such 
a solitary look, and the keepers must lead such a lonely 
life, that it seemed the part of humanity to go over and 
give them a little of our company. Accordingly towards 
evening the Captain of the Chattahoochee rowed me 
across. At the Signal Station I found a young man who 
had received his training at Washington, and was then 
assigned to this post of observation. Twice a day — at 
eight in the morning and eight in the evening — he climbs 
liis signal-tower, and takes the figures recorded by the 
barometer and other instruments, showing the pressure of 
the atmosphere, and the direction and velocity of the wind, 
and transmits them to the Signal Bureau at Washington, 
where, from these and the like observations made on 
Mount Washington and Pike's Peak, and at fifty, or per- 
haps a hundi'ed, other stations reaching from the Atlantic 
to the Pacific, and from Canada to the Gulf of Mexico, is 
made up the general report of the weather throughout the 
country, with the probabilities of coming storms, which 
are given to the pubHc the next morning. The work is 
very interesting in a scientific point of view, and yet it is a 
hard life as well as a solitary one. It is one in which there 
is no let-up : for as day and night. Summer and Winter, 
do not cease, so the observations must not be intermitted 
for a single day. In the blackest night, or the most terrific 
storm of thunder and lightning, the observer must climb 
his watch-tower, and take the record of the storms and the 
gales. And what a lonely existence ! To be sure, he has 
an assistant, a man Friday ; but even two must find this 
Robinson Crusoe life very wearisome. The only reflection 
that can make one endure it, is the military one : that he is 
a soldier on duty, a sentinel keeping watch over the public 
safety ; and that a brdve man must not desert his post. 



66 THE LIGHTHOUSE. 

From the Signal Station I turned to tlie taller tower 
near by, and climbed the iron stairway that winds round 
and round to the top of the Lighthouse. Here is another 
post of duty that must be trying to the nerves. The tower 
is, I think, a hundred and forty feet high, and though 
solidly built, with massive walls, yet at that height, when 
the wind howls, even this mighty column must seem to 
rock. It must be a fearful place when the tempest is 
abroad. But no matter what the danger may be, that light 
must never go out. It is at such times that it is most 
needed, for it is when the Atlantic gales are sweeping in 
all their fury, and ships are strugghng in fear of wreck on 
the dangerous coast, that the mariner watches most eagerly 
for this light, on which his safety may depend. 

My sympathies had been so much enlisted for the men 
leading this lonely life, that it was a relief to hear that the 
keeper of the Lighthouse, who had been here some twenty 
years, was proud of his profession, and so far from regard- 
ing himself as an object of pity, was in love with his calling. 
He has indeed (besides his two assistants) his family 
with him, and that makes all the difference in the world. 
It was very j)leasant as we came down to the boat to meet 
a motherly face leading a flock of children. It is true 
these did not happen to be his children : but so much the 
better, for it showed that there were other children also in 
the woods about here ; and children, even more than the 
old folks, give a look of home to the solitude. On the bank 
of the river behold a little thatch - covered schoolhouse, 
nestled at the foot of a cocoanut palm, which leaned over 
it as if to give it protection ! But protection sometimes 
involves danger, for if one of those cocoanuts that hang so 
high, should fall upon the head of one of the children, it is 
altogether probable that 
" The subsequent proceedings would interest him no more." 



SUNSET— PRAIRTES ON FIRE. 61 

So real is the danger that last year an athletic young 
fellow cHmbed to the top of the tree and cut off every 
cocoanut, lest a premature or unexpected descent upon 
some tender brain not yet sufficiently " armored," should 
interfere sadly with the cause of education at Jupiter Inlet. 
Returning to the Chattahoochee, I found aU on deck, 
watching the sunset. The day had been perfect. Light, 
fleecy clouds had softly veiled the deep blue of the sky, 
and now they lay along the west, receiving and reflecting 
the last rays of the sun, which, as the country is low and 
flat, swept all round the horizon. Slowly the light faded 
out, but only to be followed by another illumination, for in 
the distance were the prairies on fire ! This is done by the 
cattle owners, who every year burn them over, so that out 
of the stubble may spring a fi-esh, succulent growth for 
the food of their flocks and herds. The practice provokes 
much opposition, and may yet be done away with. But 
for those who are mere spectators, it is a brilliant spectacle. 
At last, however, in spite of fire and sunset, and the kindling 
stars, the night covered the earth, and then it was that we 
perceived the full power of the great reflector in the Light- 
house that towered above us. It is a revolving light, that 
is, one that is constantly turning, now growing fainter and 
fainter till it is almost extinguished, and then suddenly 
blazing out with such intensity that it is seen twenty miles 
at sea. At such moments it is like the full moon coming 
out of a cloud, its long trail of light quivering on the water. 
There was something fascinating and yet stax-tling in these 
sudden transitions from light to dark, and dark to light, 
and as I looked up at that great orb as it biu-st upon us in 
its fullest splendor, it seemed as if it were the awful eye of 
God, looking down from the height of heaven upon the 
darkness of this world, and discovering aU the crimes and 
wickedness of men. 



68 SPORTSMEN AND FISHERMEN. 

Life is full of surprises, bitter and sweet. Our experi- 
ence here has been of the latter kind. I feared that our 
" boat-house " might be very dull (qviiet, to be sure, but 
rather too much of a good thing), and was ready to cry out 

** Solitude, where are the charms 
That sages have seen in thy face ? " 

But, in truth, it is not so very solitary. If there be not 
much life upon the land, there is upon the water. The 
Inlet is a great resort of sportsmen and fishermen : for 
there is abundance of game in the woods, and of fish in 
the sea. Yachts from the North put in here for a few days' 
sport, and naphtha launches skim the water like birds. 
As I sit on the deck, I see here and there a rowboat put- 
ting off from under the mangroves that line the river, the 
oars in the hands of some old sea-dog, while a landsman 
sits in the bow, with his gun across his knees, as they 
approach softly a flock of ducks that are floating on the 
water. Every few minutes I hear the crack of the rifle. 
The spoils of the sea are still greater. The fish caught 
daily are counted by the hundred. It seemed like a waste 
of the bounties of Providence, that the greater part of 
them shotdd be thrown away for want of any man to eat 
them. What a pity when there are so many liungiy 
mouths in the world ! Here are some lovely monsters of 
the deep — a saw-fish (not a sword-fish), a veritable "Jack 
the Hipper," with a projecting saw three feet long, set with 
teeth like spikes, with which to cut and tear on every side ; 
and a shark that is only a baby, four or five feet long, but 
as he is hauled up on the dock, and tvu-ned over on his 
back, and the little darkies j^ry his mouth open, they stai*t 
back at seeing haK a dozen rows of teeth that would make 
mince-meat of one of the aforesaid pickaninnies, if the 
scene of operations were transferi'ed from the land to the 
water. 



ALONG THE SEASHORE. 69 

Monday morning gave promise of another perfect day, 
and as on Satiirday we had taken a ride inland, it was 
proposed that now we should take a walk by the sea. 
Along the Inlet, as along the bank of the river at Rock 
Ledge, the palm trees make a pleasant shade. In this 
thicket or jungle I did not find, as indeed I have not found 
anywhere in this country, trees of great size, that show in 
their prodigious girth and altitude centuries of growth — 
nothing to compare in majesty with the oaks of Old Eng- 
land, or the elms of New England. 

In the interior, in the swamps and lowlands, the live 
oaks and cypresses hung with moss, true gray-beards of 
the forest, give a funereal aspect to the vast, interminable 
wastes, which remind one of 

. . . " The forest primeval, 
The murmuring pines and the hemlocks," 

of Longfellow's poem, but in general there is a depressing 
monotony. One exception, however, we found this morn- 
ing in a tree that has a strange name, gumbo-limbo, and 
whose appearance is as grotesque as its name, which 
indeed had something almost human in its aspect, as its 
exposed roots and arms were like the naked limbs of 
savages bronzed by exposure to the elements. It was so 
gnarled and twisted, that it seemed to writhe in pain, as if 
it were a living creature that had committed some fearful 
crime, whose hands were stained with blood — a deed which 
it was to expiate by centui'ies of torture. 

But here is something which has puzzled the learned 
more than any vegetable growth — a shell mound, composed 
wholly of oyster shells, and yet it must be of a great age, 
as it is covered thick with eai-th, and overgrown with vege- 
tation. It is so large and so regular, rising on the shore 
of the Inlet, like the earthwork of some ancient forti- 
fication, that it must have been the work of men's hands. 



•70 THE OYSTER MOUNDS. 

But whose hands ? Civilized or barbarian ? And how 
many ages have passed away since they were piled upon 
this shore ? These are questions more easily asked than 
answered. Commodore Douglas of the Yacht Club, who has 
visited Florida for many years, and devoted much of his 
time to the opening of these mounds, is of the opinion that 
they are the remains of Indian feasts. The records of the 
early Spanish explorers tell us that on its discovery Florida 
had a dense population. The natives lived in the interior, 
on plantations which ai'e now grown up with pine woods, 
but once in the year, alt;er they had planted their fields — 
between the planting and the reaping — they migrated to 
the seashore for the food which the sea afforded in abun- 
dance. Here they pitched their wigwams and fished in the 
sea, and dug oysters out of their beds, and gathering on 
the shore, had their pow-wows and barbecues, the remains 
of which are now disinterred to be the wonder and the 
riddle of modern explorers. It is an ingenious theory, and 
yet I am a httle staggered by the extent of these mounds, 
as fifty miles below St. Augustine, at Ormond, there is a 
mound eight miles long! Truly there must have been 
Indians in those days. The woods must have been full of 
them. If these are the remains of Indian feasts, I have a 
horrible suspicion that they were scenes of cannibalism, or 
were attended with human sacrifices ! Aud perhaps some 
old savage chief, who dehghted in blood, has been punish- 
ed for his cruelty by being turned into that gumbo-limbo 
tree, where he now Avrithes in pain, like Laocoon and his 
sons, wrapped in the coils of the python, to be crashed in 
its mighty folds. 

Thus observing and philosophizing by the way as we 
strolled along the shore, we came to the mouth of the Inlet 
through which the tides ebb and flow, making it a part of 
the sea, where we stretch ourselves like so many children. 



THE SANDS AND THE SHELLS. 71 

Is there a more delicious sensation than that of lying down 
on the soft warm sand on the shore of the sea ? How clean 
it is, washed by a thousand waves ! I do not wonder that 
the ancient Fathers of the Chiu'ch allowed the use of sand 
in baptism where, as on the desert, water could not be 
obtained, for there is no more perfect emblem of purity. 
And how soft it is, yielding under us like a bed of down, 
while the waves come rohing in, not roughly and angrily, 
but softly, gently rippling up the beach. And the air ! 
was there ever anything so pure inhaled by human lungs? 
There seems a w^aste in nature, that the water and the air 
that might revive so many, are thus spent in vain. If they 
could only be earned into our cities, into the tenement 
houses, where tens of thousands swelter in the Summer 
heat, and gasp for a breath of air, how many poor suffer- 
ing creatures might be brought back to life. As I lie here, 
looking up into the light clouds sailing by in this heavenly 
atmosphere, I feel like repeating the prayer of the old 
prophet : " Come from the four winds, O breath, and 
breathe upon these slain [the sick and the dying] that 
they may live " ! 

The sea shore is a grand school for the study of natural 
history. The beach is strown with shells, miracles of 
beauty of color and exquisite in design. Here is the little 
nautilus with its tiny sail. How fragile it seems ! as if a 
breath of air, or the toss of a wave, would dash it to atoms. 
And yet He without whom not a sparrow falls to the 
ground, guides its little bark over the troubled sea. The 
shells scattered on this beach, in the hand of a master 
like Agassiz, would fiu'nish a powerful argniment for that 
Creative Mind which he saw behind all the forms of nature, 
a beautiful illustration of the wisdom and goodness of God. 

As it is a bright morning and the sea is smooth, pass- 
ing ships come in quite near to the land. Yonder is a 



12 THE PIRATES OF THE GULF. 

great steamer bound to Havana. OiT the Inlet the Gulf 
Stream does not come so close to the coast as at Lake 
Worth, and South-bound ships pass inside of it, so as not 
to have to breast the mighty current which flows north at 
the rate of three miles an hour, while shii:)s bound in the 
opposite direction, strike out boldly into the middle of the 
Stream, so as to be swept along all the more swiftly by it. 
We are now in the track of a great commerce, to aU the 
shores of the Gulf, and to the northern and western coast 
of South America. Through the narrow passage between 
the mainland and the Bahamas, the Spanish gaUeons once 
carried the gold and silver of Mexico and Peru, and here 
the Buccaneers lay in wait for them. There is no part of 
the American coast more full of legends of wild adventure, 
or that has witnessed more scenes of battle and of blood- 

Nor did the adventures end with the Spaniards and the 
Buccaneers. The peculiar formation of the coast of Flori- 
da, and of all of the northern shore of the Gulf of Mexico, 
studded with innumerable islands, aflforded secret passages 
for those embarked in unlawful enterprises, and so became 
the hiding-places of pirates, who were for a time the terror 
of the Western Continent, as the Barbary pirates were of 
the Mediterranean. From this concealment the famous 
Capt. Kidd made his raids upon the commerce of his day, 

Till his career was ended 

By his being suspended. 

But he did not mean that the world should forget him, for 
by burying his treasure in the sand, he kept ciu'iosity 
alive, and set treastu'e-hunters to digging to the present 
day. 

The execution of a few such bold leaders as Kidd was 
of course a great damper to " the business," yet as late as 
the beginning of the present century, the pirates of the 
Gulf were still a terror to all who sailed along the South- 



WRECKS AND WRECKERS. 73 

em coast ; one of the sad tales of which -was that the only 
daughter of Aaron Burr, returning fiom Charleston, was 
taken by pirates, and made to walk the plank ! Still later, 
a remnant of them had their lair at the Belize near the 
mouth of the .Mississippi, to watch for ships coming to 
New Orleans. But all these nests of piracy were finally 
broken up as the country became more thickly settled. 
The " good old times " were gone, and with thesa 

. . . " the good old plan 
That he should take who had the power, 
And he should keep who can." 

Pursued in their hiding-places, and cut to pieces, the last 
of them finally surrendered and made their peace with the 
Government, by taking service with Gen. Jackson, and 
fighting bravely at the battle of New Orleans. Since then, 
we have heard no more of the pirates of the Gulf. 

But all dangers of the coast are not over. The sea is 
not always so smooth as it is this morning. Storms come 
out of the Gulf of Mexico, as well as the Stream which 
bears its name, and sometimes sweep along the coast with 
tremendous power. Now and then the Weather Bureau 
at "Washington gives warning of the approach of a cyclone, 
that is coming up from the South, which may not expend 
itself till it has cast up wrecks all along the seaboard to 
Maine. Its first destruction is felt on the coast of Florida, 
where along the border of the Gulf Stream there are eddies 
and currents that drive a ship, that has become helpless in 
the fury of a gale, upon the rocks and reefs. Hence this 
coast has had a bad reputation for the number of its ship- 
wrecks, and out of this has grown another ugly business : 
that of " wreckers " — a rough set of men, who lived along 
the shores, keeping a lookout for ships that might be 
caught in gales and storms. It is to be feared that they 
were not always so full of sympathy as they might have 



14 THE LIFE-SAVING STATION. 

been for the sufferings of their fellow-creatures ; for it is 
said that they even set decoy lights to mislead seamen in 
dark nights, and draw them on to destruction. No sooner 
did they see a ship in the breakers going to pieces, than 
they pounced on the helpless crew as vultures sweep down 
upon a camel that has fallen on the desert. 

There was a time when this " business " was lively and 
floui'ishing, but the " profits " are not what they were. Do 
you see that little building on a point that overlooks the 
sea? That is the Life-saving Station, manned by trusty 
seamen, who keep watch for any accident, great or small. 
Only yesterday, as some of our party were walking on the 
seashore, they observed a yacht trying to enter the Inlet. 
There was no heavy sea, but as the passage is narrow, she 
fell off to one side, and was soon fast in the sand. There 
was no danger so long as the sea was smooth, but a strong 
wind might soon put her in peril. But hardly had the 
accident occurred before half a dozen stalwart seamen 
came at full speed from the Station, and lending their 
stout arms to those of the men on board, soon got her off 
into deep water again. 

But this was a trifling incident compared with some 
which they have to face, when great ships are utterly 
wrecked. To meet this appalling danger, the Stations are 
fui-nished with life-boats and every appliance for extend- 
ing immediate relief to those in the utmost peril. If a 
ship gets on the rocks half a mile at sea, and the waves 
are running so high that no boat can reach her, there is 
another resource. In a corner of the Station stands a 
short but big-throated howitzer, like a huge St. Bernard 
dog on the top of the Alj^s, waiting for the moment of 
greatest peril, when the storm is wildest and the snows 
are deepest, to show what he can do. Into its capacious 
mouth the seamen thrust a ball, to which is attached a 



SMUGGLING FROM CUBA. 15 

long line, and then the giin is pointed high in air and 
fired, the ball streaming away like a rocket ; and as it falls 
into the sea, it drops its line across the deck of the foun- 
dering bark, by which those on board can pull in a heavier 
roj)e and make it fast, and then lashing themselves to it 
one by one, can all at last escape safe to land ! 

Of course the old vsreckers look very sullenly at this 
interference of the Government with their "legitimate 
business." What with lighthouses that are seen twenty 
miles at sea, and Hfe-saving stations aU along the coast, 
there does not seem to be much chance for them to pick 
up a living in the old way. All that is left for them is to 
do a little smuggling. Cuba is conveniently near to the 
Florida Coast, and it is easy to fiU a boat with a cargo of 
Havana cigars, and running in among the " Keys " (as the 
little islands on the coast are called), secrete their treasure 
in some hidden nook. But here again they are pursued 
by evil fortune. Hardly have they got on shore, and are 
sitting round their camp-fire, when the " myrmidons of the 
law " swoop down upon them, and " gobble up " the cigars, 
and "hale" the daring boatmen to prison. These things 
are trying to the greatest courage and endiu'ance, and we 
can hardly wonder that they sometimes ask the question, 
which is asked by tramps and idlers and thieves all over 
the world, "How is a fellow going to live?" That we 
leave them to settle among themselves. We feel the same 
sort of sympathy for them that we do for so many old 
wharf-rats that have been bvuTowing under and into a 
staunch ship, and that are suddenly routed out ; and as 
we see them flying in all directions, we turn with renewed 
satisfaction to the lighthouses along the coast that have 
let in daylight upon them, and to the vigilant men who 
have broken up these old haunts of crime, and say, Blessed 
be civilization ! 



CHAPTER VI. 

NEW ENGLAND IN THE SOUTH THE OLD HOME AND 

THE NEW HOxME. 

Florida is not a part of the country in which we should 
look for New England ers, any more than for Southerners 
in the forests of Maine. But the irrepressible Yankee is 
everywhere, from the Tropics to the Pole. The war sent 
the men of Massachusetts and other New England States, 
to the South by tens of thousands, and many found it a 
goodly land to stay in when the war was over. Of those 
who marched with their comrades to the North, where the 
troops were disbanded, some made their way back again, 
finding the fertile lands and mild cHmate of the South 
more attractive than the rocks and snows of New Eng- 
land. But they did not come in great numbers, nor in 
armed battalions, but at most in small " squads." The 
greater part indeed came singly. Here and there an 
old officer, broken in health by his hard camjDaigns, had 
come to Florida to die ; but after the experience of a few 
months, concluded to postpone his departure, and still 
abides in the land, enjoying health and prosperity. More 
often those who had served in the camp as common sol- 
diers, leaving behind them their knapsacks and their guns, 



GATHERING OF THE CLANS. 11 

and with nothing in the world but their strong arms, 
sought out lonely places in the wilderness where land was 
cheap, and with their axes made clearings in the forest, 
and there built them cabins and planted a few acres. Thus 
coming one by one, in the course of a few years there came 
to be " quite a sprinkUng " of New Englanders through 
the pine woods of the South ; and as they were a hardy 
tribe, in whom industry and economy took the place of the 
old shiftlessness, they began to thriye in the land. 

Now the Yankees are a clannish race, and when a few 
of them find themselves within reaching distance, they 
flock together, using any public occasion — an Agricultural 
Fair or a Sub-tropical Exposition — to gather round some 
board, where, as at the cherished Thanksgivings, old mem- 
ories are revived and old customs recalled. The day which 
New Englanders have a right to consider as peculiarly 
their own, is the 22d of December — the day on which the 
Pilgrims landed on Plymouth Rock. But such a cele- 
bration is a Movable Feast, the particular day for which 
may be made to suit the convenience of the celebrators. 
In Florida the New Englanders who have been North dur- 
ing the Summer and Winter, often return late, and are not 
all back even in December ; so that it was thought better 
to fix a later day, and for this year they chose the 22 d of 
February, not thinking it a misappropriation of the birth- 
day of the Father of his Country, to devote it to remem- 
bering the Pilgrim Fathers. 

Accordingly on that day there was a gathering of the 
clans at Jacksonville — a notable company of typical New 
Englanders, sturdy in frame, and carrying big heads on 
their broad shoulders — who had come from all parts of 
Florida to do honor to their common mother. Of course, 
as is usual on such occasions, there had to be a good deal 
of talking, in which many took part, I among the rest. 



1$ A NOTABLE CELEBRATION. 

Though what I said was of no great importance, it seemed 
to please " the boys." That was not difficult : for when a 
company are in a mood to be pleased, it is easy to please 
them. As we were all " of the family," it Avas natui'al that 
they should resj)ond to allusions to the Old Home. There 
was another tender chord, in the experience of Jackson- 
ville the previous Summer, which responded to whatever 
recalled that terrible calamity. For the sake of the kindly 
associations of the hour, and in the hope that it may touch 
a chord in the hearts of other " old boys," I reprint a part 
of what I said to those at Jacksonville : for I am sure that 
the sons of New England, wherever they may be, in what- 
ever new homes they have found in the South or West, 
will always welcome that which reminds them of the dear 
old hills and valleys among which they were born. And 
after this manner I spake : 

This is a gathering of the sons of New England, who, 
though they have removed far away from it, yet do not 
forget the place of their birth, and come together once a 
year to revive the recollections of the Old Home. We are 
met to keep an old-fashioned Thanksgiving, and now that 
we have partaken of the feast, we may imagine ourselves 
gathered round one of those huge fii-ej^laces that some of 
us remember ; piled high with hickory logs, and as the 
flames roar up the chimney, and the firelight shines in the 
familiar faces, we talk of old times and old fifiends, the 
living and the dead. 

It is not that New England is better than any other 
place on the face of the earth (though about that we have 
our private opinion), but she is Our Mother : she rocked 
tis in our cradles ; she formed in us the principles and the 
habits to which we owe whatever of success we have had 
in life ; and we should be unworthy of her, if we did not 
remember her with fiUal affection, reverence, and honor. 



NEW ENGLAND IN WINTER AND SPRING. 79 

The country itself is not attractive, at least not at this 
season of the year, in the depth of Winter. If we could 
transport ourselves there to-night, vyhat should we see? 
Not the orange groves of Florida, but only naked trees, 
with branches aU stripped and bare, while hills and valleys 
are buried in snow. And yet a New England "Winter is 
not without its attractions. Even in the storm-blast there 
is something which rouses the manhood in our breasts, 
and causes the blood to course quicker in our veins. "Who 
of us cannot say with Burns : 

'* E'en Winter bleak has charms to me, 
When winds rave through the naked tree, 
And frosts on hills of Ochiltree 

Are hoary gray ; 
Or blinding drifts wild furious flee 
Darkening the day." 

The pleasures of "Winter are not to be despised. How I 
wish I could hear at this moment the jingle of the sleigh- 
bells, and the merry laugh and song of the boys and girls 
as they ride home in the moonlight ! 

But it is in the Spring-time that New England puts on 
her robe of beauty : when, after the long sleep of "Winter, 
the life of nature returns, as our little Mends the robins 
come back ; the tender grass begins to appear, and the 
trees put forth their leaves ; the apple blossoms fill the air 
with fragrance ; and the verdure fi-om the meadows along 
the river's banks creeps up the hillsides, till the foliage of 
the oaks and the birches and the chestnuts, mingled with 
the evergreen of the pines and the hemlocks, makes the 
full glory of the forest, and the mountains shake like 
Lebanon, 

In these green vaUeys and under the shadow of these 
mountains, have spruiig up villages of a peculiar type — 
not centering in some lordly pile, as an English village 



80 A NEW ENGLAND VILLAGE. 

gathers round a nobleman's castle — -with no great man- 
sions, but a general air of comfort and modest beauty. 
If I were to take one village as a sample of many, it would 
be the one I know best, that in which I was bom, in West- 
ern Massachusetts, in the Berkshire Hills — Stockbridge — 
a village not laid out in the English style, nor the French 
stjie, nor in any other " style," except the good old-fash- 
ioned New England style ; having one broad street lined 
with elms, whose giant branches, reaching high in air and 
drooping towards each other, form an arch like that of a 
cathedral, which, when lighted up by the setting sun, is 
more glorious than the nave of Westminster Abbey. 

Along this street, under these elms, are scattered homes, 
not pretentious in any way, but each with its smooth-shaven 
lawn, its grass and its flowers without, and its books and 
pictures within, which show it to be the home of taste and 
refinement. 

If there were time to dwell on these home pictures, I 
might take you over the town, to the farm-houses, with 
capacious barns, and other signs of abundance, in front of 
which the spacious foreground is overhung by trees, and 
graced by 

"The moss-covered bucket that hangs in the well." 

Next to the homes of the New England village are its 
institutions, around which its life gathers. Of these there 
are two, the church and the school. You see the little 
schoolhouse at the foot of the hill, or it may be under the 
shade of an elm : how modest it looks ! But in many a 
New England village that was the only "institution of 
learning." Yet out of that humble door have gone the 
men that have led your armies, that have fought your 
battles and ruled your Government. The schoolhouses 
of New England have made its people the equal in intel- 
ligence of any other on the face of the globe. 



THE OLD MEETING-HOUSE. 81 

Yet the schoolhouse would not have amounted to so 
much, if it had not been for the motherly old " Meeting- 
house," that stood on the village green, which was the edu- 
cator of the people in moral and religious truth, as the 
school taught them the rudiments of knowledge, "What 
an awe fell upon my childish heart as I looked up at the 
steeple from which the bell called us to the place of prayer ! 
As a boy I often wandered about the old graveyard, where 

" The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep " ; 

and if at that moment the old sexton struck the bell for 
some approaching funeral, that solemn toll struck upon 
my heart as if it were a warning sound from eternity 
itself. 

Within the old meeting-house our associations are of a 
mingled character : grave and solemn, with observations 
of manners and customs that were quaint and curious, 
some of which may even provoke a smile. The lugh pulpit' 
was at one end of the church, and the gallery at the other, 
in which the choir stood facing the minister, as if deter- 
mined to keep up theii" end of the house, and do their full 
pai-t in public worship. In those days we did not have a 
fashionable quartette, but pure home talent, in which the 
" spruce " young men of the village showed themselves 
beside the comely maidens. In our village church, in the 
centre of the choir stood a man six feet high (I say six ; it 
might have been seven or eight — to my childish imagina- 
tion he seemed to be ten or twelve), whose " front view " 
was made still more striking by a tremendous nose. As 
he rose in his full proportions, he lifted up with him a bass 
viol as big as himself, out of which he ground unearthly 
music. The sight was so awe-inspiring, that I had to turn 
aside my eyes to rest them on the gentle PrisciUas at his 
side. The Lord will forgive me in the circumstances. In 



82 IN THE HOUSE OF THE LORD. 

truth, I did not look ujDon tliose faces as I might if I had 
seen them on the street, lighted up with smiles. I regard- 
ed them only with what President Edwards calls " the love 
of complacency," which he approves and commends as " a 
very sweet affection " (he is certainly right in that), and 
also very pure and holy, if it he not indeed the essence of 
all virtue ! 

But if anybody imagines that the Sabbath worship was 
merely an occasion for mutual observation, he is greatly 
mistaken ; the old meeting-house was truly a solemn place, 
as the house of God ought to be : where all tbat was evil 
in us was rebuked, and all that was best was awakened to 
a new life ; where heads were bent low, and tears fell fi'om 
weeping eyes ; and as we mourned over all that was wrong 
in the past, we resolved to live better in the future, and 
our solemn vows were mingled with humble prayers. 

Then as we raised our bended heads and down-cast 
eyes to the pulpit, we listened to him who spoke as a 
messenger from above. I have stood uj^on the top of 
Mount Sinai, where God gave the law to men ; but God 
never came so near to me as Avhen He spoke, not by the 
lips of Moses, but of one to whom I looked up with far 
more reverence than I did to Moses, because he spoke not 
only with authority, but with that love which gives to 
authority its highest power. How can I ever speak, or 
think as I ought, of that white haired patriarch who taught 
me the way of life, and of whom, as he went up out of our 
sight, I could only exclaim, " My Father ! My Father ! 
The chariot of Israel and the horsemen thereof ! " We 
shall see him no more, and yet we mourn not, since we 
think of him now as having passed into the highest 
heavens, where he is without fault before the throne of 
God! 

Nor was the reUgion of New England merely inculcat- 



FAMILY PRAYERS. 83 

ed in public ; it entered into tlie families of the people, 
and was a part of their daily life. How well do I remem- 
ber the morning and evening prayers! In my father's 
family we read the Bible through in course, beginning 
with Genesis, and going straight through to Kevelation. 
We knew all the generations from Adam. We had as 
clear an idea of the geography of the Garden of Eden, as 
we had of our own village. Did we not have a map of it 
in the old Family Bible, with the four rivers running out 
of it at right angles! About that household worship 
linger sweet and blessed memories. I had a sister with a 
gentle voice, who at our morning prayers often sang : 

Early, my God, without delay, 
I haste to seek Thy face ; 
and at evening, 

Glory to Thee, my God, this night, 
For all the blessings of the light ; 
Keep me, keep me. King of kings. 
Beneath the shadow of Thy wings. 

Her voice thrills me even now, though I hear it only dying 
away in the distance, as she long since passed within the 
heavenly gates. 

Pardon these personal allusions. But in the associa- 
tions that are brought back to-night, thoughts of the Hving 
are mingled with memories of the dead, memories which 
it is good to recall, as they will help us to hve and to die. 
That morning and evening worship was repeated in ten 
thousand homes, as the Cotter's Saturday Night was repeat- 
ed in the homes of Scotland ; and if 

" From scenes like these old Scotia's grandeur springs. 
That makes her loved at home, revered abroad," 

not less is it true of our dear New England. 

Of what that North country has been and has done in 
our national history, I will not speak. As Mr. Webster 



84 THE NEW HOME. 

once said on a memorable occasion of Massachusetts : 
"There she is; behold her, and judge for yourselves! 
The bones of her sons, fallen in the great struggle for 
independence, lie mingled -with the soil of every State, 
from Maine to Georgia, and there they will lie forever." 

Such is New England, and such the inheritance which 
she has left to her children. 

Having thus spoken of the Old Home, may I say a few 
words of the New One ? Though we meet to-night as 
sons of New England, we are not in New England, but a 
thousand miles away. Yet we do not feel that we are 
strangers here, who must, like the captives in Babylon, 
hang our harps upon the willows, saying " How can we 
sing the Lord's song in a strange land ? " We are still at 
home, in the same country, under the same flag, and 
among those who are our countrymen and brothers. 

I have no wish to revive painful recollections : indeed 
they cease to be painful when we come to recognize the 
hand of God in a bitter experience, leading us on to an 
end better than we knew. The great Civil War, which 
covered our land with mourning and woe, accomplished 
for us in four years what could not have been accomphsh- 
ed in a hundred years of peace. It removed the one great 
bar to a perfect union, and made us know each other as 
never before. Hatred between nations, as between indi- 
viduals, is often born of ignorance. The Germans and 
the French hate each other, because they are I'ival powers 
and have had many wars, but this hatred would die out, 
were it not that they live in different countries and speak 
different languages, so that they cannot have that free 
communion with each other, that would exist between 
those of the same race and speech, passing to and fro, 
from city to city. So in this country — the North and the 
South were long separated by great distances as well aa 



NORTH AND SOUTH COMING TOGETHER. 85 

by different institutions. Now, it may seem strange for a 
minister of the Gospel to say it, but it is the sober truth 
of history, that nothing promotes acquaintance so much 
as war. Soldiers who meet face to face do not need any 
foi'mal introduction : they do not stand on ceremony, but 
at once present their salutations, and in an hour they are 
better acquainted than they would be in years standing 
aloof and indulging in mutual recriminations. Still further, 
men who have fought each other generally have an immense 
respect for each other. And while respect is not love, yet 
it is an essential element in an attachment that is to be 
strong and permanent. And so it is that good often comes 
out of evil, and peace is established by war : " Out of the 
lion cometh forth meat, and out of the strong cometh forth 
sweetness." 

The truth of this was never more fully illustrated than 
in the result of our late war, by which we have not only 
kept the old union, but established a still better one — one 
that I beheve will last forever. This is the third time that 
I have come South within a few years, and it has been with 
increasing satisfaction that I have observed how old preju- 
dices were dying out, and those long divided by ignorance 
of each other, were coming to know each other better, and 
to feel a genuine mutual respect. 

In addition to this general reflow of fraternal feeling, 
the people of this city, more than of almost any other in 
our country, have been drawn together during the past 
year by common trials and common sufferings. For 
months there was no place which was the object of such 
constant and painful interest. I see across the table a 
gentleman who stood at his post here through aU that 
dreadful time (I am proud to say that he is a brother- 
editor), and sent daily messages to the North of the rav- 
ages of the destroyer. He can hardly realize what min- 



86 THE YELLOW FEVER IN JACKSONVILLE. 

gled feelings of terror and pity and sympathy those tidings 
created, Jacksonville seemed to us like a besieged city, in 
which your people were fighting with sickness and death. 
Notliing tries human courage and endurance so much as 
this daily hand-to-hand fight with an enemy, not without 
but within your gates — an enemy all the more terrible 
because it is invisible ; because it walketh in darkness and 
wasteth at noonday. 

You have read the story of the siege of Lucknow : and 
remember how it dragged on for months, the enemy all 
the while coming nearer and nearer, and the defenders 
growing fewer and fewer. Still they only closed ujd their 
ranks, and stood at their posts — men, and women too, all 
involved in one common sufifering, some dying every day, 
but with their last breath animating their siu-vivors. 

You in Jacksonville have been through somewhat the 
same experience. Month after month the pestilence was 
never for a single moment out of your thoughts. Day 
after day those whom you had seen in robust health were 
carried to their long home, and the mourners went about 
the streets. The strain of such j)rolonged anxiety must 
have been terrible. How bravely it was borne, you best 
know. Some of your foremost citizens — those who could 
least be spared — sacrificed their lives to save yours. In 
an address delivered here only day before yesterday, at 
the reopening of your Sub-Tropical Exposition, I find the 
following allusion to one who at the first opening intro- 
duced the President of the United States : " You all 
remember that the Chief Magistrate was introduced by a 
man the memory of whose unselfish life is a heritage 
beyond price — God's nobleman and our mai'tjo- — James 
Jacquelin Daniel." As I read this, my thoughts went 
back to Lucknow and to one who perished there. Sir 
Henry Lawrence, the commander, exposing himself too 



LESSON OF THE PESTILENCE. 8t 

bravely, was struck by a shell, and covering his uniform 
that the soldiers might not know their terrible loss, was 
carried away to die. Like Havelock, he was a Christian 
soldier, and partook of the communion, and asked that no 
eulogy should be inscribed upon his tomb, but simply 
these words : " Here lies Henry Lawrence, who tiied to do 
his duty : may God have mercy on his soul ! " "With equal 
truth might these words (which, simple as they are, com- 
prehend everything) be written over the grave of your 
martyr : " Here lies one who tried to do his duty ! " 

These sacrifices have not been in vain, if they teach a 
lesson to those who survive. They should not be forgot- 
ten, for the memory wiU be an inspu-ation to you and to 
those that come after you, to meet whatever trials may be 
in store for you in the future. TJiose trials may not come 
in the form of pestilence ; they may come in flames, which 
may lay a part of your city in ashes. But no matter what 
may be, nor how it may come, it wiU never be irretrieva- 
ble if you stand together, thinking only of the common 
safety, and meet danger with that presence of mind, that 
calmness and resolution, of which men of your own city 
have given such splendid examples. 

But while we recall this great calamity, it is gratifying 
to see how quickly and completely you have recovered 
from it. If we had not had such full details in our North- 
ern papers in the daily despatches from Jacksonville, we 
could not beheve that it had passed through such a bitter 
experience. But akeady trade has revived, and business 
goes on as before, giving signs to the stranger of what I 
hear from many quarters, that this is to be the great com- 
mercial city of the South Atlantic coast, taking the place 
formerly held by Charleston and Savannah. 

If you would allow me, as an outsider, to express an 
opinion, it wordd be that this prosperity has been greatly 



gS NEW MGLANDERS IN THE SOUTH. 

promoted by tlie complete fusion of the North and the 
South. I see here on every side the signs that Northern 
capital and Northern enterprise have come among you, 
and come to stay. But I should be sorry to think that 
this was to be a Northern city in any exclusive sense. It 
is Southern by latitude, by climate, and by population, and 
such it must remain, only deriving additional strength 
from the infusion of another element, the mingling of 
Northern and Southern blood. 

In this beautiful city of the South, you, sons of New 
England, have fixed your home. You are not aliens here, 
but feUow-citizens with your Southern brethren of this 
goodly Commonwealth. You will be none the less so for 
remembering where you were born, and cherishing the 
principles and the habits which you learned from your 
fathers : industry, integrity, fidelity ; and that fear of 
Almighty God which becomes the descendants of the 
Puritans. Brothers ! you who have come fi'om Maine and 
Massachusetts ; fi-om the Green Mountains of Vermont 
and the White Hills of New Hampshire ; fi-om the valleys 
of Connecticut and the rocky shores of Rhode Island : you 
are heirs to a great inheritance — the inheritance of two 
hundred and fifty years of honor and glory. Keep that 
honor unstained ! Wherever your lot may be cast, in the 
Noi-th or in the South, or in the mighty West, let the sons 
of New England show that they ai'e not unworthy of their 
glorious Mother. 



CHAPTER VTL 
NORTHERN FLORIDA. 

I felt a real sinking of the heart when it came to saying 
good-bye to St. Augustine. For seven weeks (except the 
interval of the excursion to Jupiter Inlet, and a longer 
visit to Havana) it had been my home. Never have I been 
in a more restful spot. Coming from the incessant roar 
of city streets, the change was as great as if I had been 
transported to some mountain top, or to some deep valley 
in the Alps, where the sounds of the busy world could not 
reach me, and I could quietly gather strength for the open- 
ing year. 

But all its pleasTU'es oome to an end as the stalwart 
porter — a man of mighty physique and stentorian voice — 
comes up into the Rotunda, and cries in a tone that rings 
through the halls, "All on board for Jacksonville ! " Re- 
luctantly we vanish from the scene, and as we roll under 
the arches and over the smooth road to the new Union 
Depot, we keep looking back to the Spanish towers of the 
Ponce de Leon, imder the shadow of which we have passed 
so many weeks of rest and of happiness. 

It softened a little the pain of departure, that I could 
make the first stage of my homeward joiu'ney a short one, 



90 THE BEAUTY OF JACKSONVILLE. 

and stop at Jacksonville, and spend an evening with the 
Mends who had invited me to make the trip with them 
to Jupiter Inlet. We met as brave companions-in-arms, 
and as we sat round the table, we recalled our thrilling 
experiences by flood and field, and fought oui' battles over 
again in the most approved style of old soldiers. 

When I first saw Jacksonville, it was only to pass 
through it from one end of the main street to the other, 
which I supposed to be the whole town ; and I thought 
that, though it might be called in Western or Southern 
phrase, "a right smart chance of a place," it was not very 
pictiu'esque nor attractive in any way. It was not till I 
came again for the New England dinner, and sjoent a day, 
that I got any idea either of its extent or its beauty. But 
when it came to a drive of several hours, I found the place 
expanding in every direction ; and that the business por- 
tion, instead of being confined to one street, overflowed 
into many, in which the shops and stores and markets, the 
railway stations and landing j^laces, had an air of busy, 
bustling activity, not common in a Soiithern town. A 
stately ship, just coming up the river, reminded us that 
this was a seaj)ort, and had connection with all the cities 
on the Atlantic Coast. Miss Thursby, whom I met at St. 
Augustine, told me that she had never had a more delight- 
ful voyage than that from New York to JacksonviUe. The 
Sub-tropical Exposition, inaugurated last year by Presi- 
dent Cleveland, but broken uj) by the j'ellow fever, had 
been recently reopened — an event which was welcomed by 
the people as a good omen, it being interpreted as a sign 
of the revival of general prosperity. 

The city is well laid out, having as a centre a square, 
on which are two fine hotels ; and the wide streets, along 
which they have begun to plant trees, are adorned with 
many beautiful residences. The ground ah'eady built over. 



ON THE BANK OF THE ST. JOHN's. 91 

must be two or three square miles in extent. Nor is 
this all that is available for a city. Behind it is a large 
plateau, elevated above the river sufilciently to furnish 
perfect drainage, now covered with pine woods, but where 
in the future I see in imagination hundreds and thou- 
sands of suburban homes, such as now line all the roads 
radiating fi-om that most beautiful city of the west, Cleve- 
land, Ohio. In truth, Jacksonville reminds me of what 
Cleveland was when I first saw it, forty years ago ; and 
suggests the pleasant anticiiDation that what Cleveland is 
to-day, Jacksonville may be in forty years to come : her 
own enthusiastic people would probably say, in half that 
time. 

Returning from this plateau, we drove for a couj)le of 
miles along the bank of the St. John's, where at intervals 
are spacious dwellings, half hidden from view by the shade 
of trees, and that on the other side look out upon the 
broad surface of this noble river, the sight of " a busy city 
far away "only adding to the sense of perfect seclusion. 
I did not wonder that Mrs. Stowe had pitched her tent a 
few miles to the south of this, at Mandarin, where under 
the overhanging boughs, she could enjoy to the full the 
solemn stillness, the whispering winds, and all the majesty 
and inspiration of a forest home. 

When I left Jacksonville the next morning, it was not 
to take a course directly north, but west, which took me 
through Northern Florida, a portion of the State that has 
a character of its own. Southern Florida, all of which is 
in the peninsida, is as flat as if it had but just i-isen from 
the ocean bed, but here the country rises in gentle undula- 
tions, like the rolling prairies of the West. The vegetation 
also changes : instead of endless pine barrens, the trees 
are at once larger and more varied, reminding one of the 
oak openings of Michigan. There are also signs of activity 



92 OLD PLAiNTATION MELODIES DYING OUT. 

along tlie road, more frequent than in the farther South. 
Villages are sprinkled in the woods, and now and then the 
welcome sound of a saw-mill mingles with the rushing of 
a stream. I was not looking out for streams, for I was 
not making a study of geography; and perhaps my readers 
will smile when I teU them that the only one which I asked 
to have pointed out to me, was the Suwanee river. It is 
not much of a river, and as it gHdes away under the trees 
along its banks, it seems to be hiding fi'om sight. But 
even the glimpse of it as the train rushed over the bridge, 
set me to humming to myself : 

" 'Way down on de S'wanee river, 
Far, far away — 
Dere's where my heart is turning ebber ; 
Dere's where de old folks stay." 

This is one of the most popular songs in the world. 
Years ago it was said that half a million copies of it had 
been sold. It is the echo of the old plantation melodies, 
though the words and the music were by a Northern com- 
poser. Yet he must have made a study of the native songs, 
till he caught their peculiar rhythm and was infused with 
their spirit. What a j)ity that these old melodies, that 
charmed a past generation, are dying out ! It may be said 
that they are " slave songs," which were born of a state 
of servitude, and that now the negroes are free, we can- 
not expect them any longer to sing the songs of their 
captivity. This may be one reason, and yet I cannot help 
thinking that there is another still more potent, viz : that 
they are ashamed of them, as if they were reminders of 
their old state of bondage. 

The evening before I left St. Augustine, there was a 
gathering of the colored people in the Opera House, which 
was chosen as the only building in the town large enough 
to hold them. As I sat on the platform, between the 



TALLAHASSEE. 93 

principal speaker and Dr. Paxton of New York, and looked 
over the assembled multitude, it was a stirring scene. The 
choir, composed wholly of colored singers, sang a number 
of pieces, and sang well, as such singers always do, for 
they have an instinct of melody ; and yet I felt a disap- 
j)ointment, and said to the leader, " Why did you not sing 
some of the old plantation melodies ? " " Because," he 
answered, "I thought I would educate my people to some- 
thing higher ! " That tells the whole story. It is in the 
effort to rise to " something higher," that they have lost 
what gave their songs such a wonderful pathos and power. 
The feeling may be a natural one, but the result is to be 
lamented, for so perishes what we would not willingly let 
die. These songs have still a place in a world that is full 
of breaking hearts. Slavery is dead, but sorrow is not 
dead, and the time has not yet come, and perhaps never 
wiU come, when mourning hearts will not need to sing 

" Nobody knows the sorrows I've seen, 
Nobody knows but Jesus," 
and 

" Keep me from sinking down," 

At two o'clock we came to a city set on a hill. Not a 
very high hill, to be sure, but one that it was refreshing to 
see after so long dwelling on the plains. This was Talla- 
hassee, the cajiital of Florida, a city which, compared with 
the new towns that have sprung up here and there, is 
quite venerable, and was in the former days a home of the 
Southern aristocracy, and that still has many old famihes, 
which, though reduced in wealth, retain that dignity and 
courtesy of manners, which was the most attractive feature 
of the olden time. It is still one of the most charming 
towns in the South. 

Riding over the hills, through long streets, past the 
Capitol (in which the Legislature meets for a few months 



94 THE GRAVE OF ACHILLE MURAT. 

of the year, wben the town is filled with the atmosphere of 
pohtics), we come to the Leon Hotel — so named fiom the 
county in which it is, that received its name at the first 
settlement of the country, when it was christened from 
the province of Spain that was united with Castile hun- 
dreds of years ago. 

There is another reminder of the Old World in the 
graveyard, where, beneath a modest stone, lies the body of 
Achille Murat. What a story is told in the name graven 
on that monument! He who lies here was born in a 
palace, the son of that fiery soldier whose deeds were 
known on every battlefield of Eiu'ope, and of Carohne, 
sister of the great Napoleon. Nephew of the master of 
France, he seemed born to great destinies. His father 
was made King of Naples, where, possessed of an indepen- 
dent sovereignty, he thought to manage his httle kingdom 
in his own way, and chafed at receiving orders from Paris, 
to the indignation of his Imperial creator ; but restraining 
his own impatience for a time, it broke out after the triumph 
of the Allies in 1814, when he turned against his former 
master, who was so angered by this treachery that when 
he returned from Elba, he would not receive his former 
Heutenant — a degree of displeasiu-e which cost him dear, 
for with Murat (as he thought) he might have won the 
battle of Waterloo. " It needed only," he said, " to break 
a few English squares, and Murat would undoubtedly have 
effected that." Meanwhile the latter had lost his throne, 
which he endeavored to recover by a revolution that was 
immediately suppressed, and he was shot. 

Then the several branches of the Napoleon dynasty 
sought a refuge in different paiis of the world. Joseph 
Bonaparte, the eldest brother of Napoleon and former 
King of Spain, came to the United States, and for some 
years lived in retirement at Bordentown, New Jersey j 



A FRIEND ON AN OLD PLANTATION. 95 

while the son of Murat, as yet hardly grown to manhood, 
came to Florida and married an American wife, and no 
doubt was hapj^ier in his quiet home than if he had inherit- 
ed the throne of the two Sicilies. 

After the restoration of the Empire under Louis Napo- 
leon, the representatives of different branches of the family 
were recalled to Paris, and shone as the stars of the 
Imperial Court. But Achille Murat was in his grave. 
The old residents of Tallahassee still remember him as the 
quiet French gentleman, who won their respect and their 
good will by his courtesy ; and they point out to strangers 
the mansion on yonder hill where he lived with his true- 
hearted American wife, who wrote the touching inscription 
on his tomb, where she now sleeps beside him. 

But I had come to Tallahassee chiefly to see an old 
friend. Prof. E. Warren Clark, who many years ago wrote 
Letters from Japan, when that country was less known 
than it is now. I did not see him in Japan, nor become 
acquainted with him till after his return to America ; nor 
even since had I seen him often. But I felt such genuine 
respect for him as one of the pluckiest men I had ever 
known, that, although it was nearly two hundred miles out 
of my way, I would not leave the South without seeing 
him. Inquiring for him I found that he was living on a 
plantation five miles from the city. Asking for a carriage 
to take me there, the proprietor of the Leon kindly offered 
to drive me himself ; so that I had not only his spirited 
horses, but an excellent companion and guide. It was a 
pleasant afternoon, and the new-plowed furrows in the 
fields lay open to the sun, and as they melted under the 
increasing warmth, gave promise of an early Spring. My 
friend, coming South a few years since for his health, had 
taken an old plantation, which had ran to waste after the 
war, but which he had set to work with his usual energy 



96 MAKING A STOUT FIGHT. 

to restore, and bring into cultivation. The place was 
a large one, comprising several hundred acres of upland, 
dotted over with grand old oaks, and looking down upon a 
beautiful lake, across which the hills on the opposite side 
cast their evening shadows. 

But he had no end of troubles to encounter. He was 
attacked with chills, which would have shaken the life out of 
a less resolute man ; while he daily groaned over the easy- 
going and slow-moving blacks, who would wear out the 
patience of a saint. In hearing his story, I could not but 
think that his " fight of afflictions " was greater in some 
respects than Paul's : for while the Apostle had to fight 
with beasts at Ephesus, he never had to fight with the 
fever and ague ; and though his patience was tried in 
dealing with all sorts of " unreasonable men," he had not 
to deal with the Sambos and Topsys of an old plantation. 
However, my brave fi'iend did not ask pity from anybody, 
and while he told of his manifold experiences, laughed 
heartily over them. Fortunately he stays here but a joart 
of the yeai\ His famUy are settled in a delightful home in 
Columbia, Tennessee, to which I hope he will be able to 
remove, to engage in that varied work, as teacher and 
l^reacher and lectiu'er, for which he is admirably fitted. 

As he was alone except with his workmen, I immedi- 
ately laid hold upon him, and cai-ried him off cajitive to 
Tallahassee for the night. A pleasant evening it was in 
the spacious parlors of the Leon Hotel, before the blazing 
fire, where were many visitors from the North, among 
whom we found, as usual, the three Cs — Cincinnati, Cleve- 
land, and Chicago — well represented ; while in our private 
talks we went back in memory and imagination to tlie 
happy days that we passed in the Land of the Rising Sun. 



CHAPTER Vni. 
" MARCHING THROUGH GEORGIA." 

When Sherman made his famous March to the Sea, the 
Boys in Blue enlivened their " tramp, tramp," with many 
a song as well as story — songs that were sung, not only on 
the march, but by the camp-fire, and echoed far and wide 
through the dim aisles of the Southern forest. Of these, no 
one was more pojjular than " Marching through Georgia." 
I do not remember ever to have heard it ; if I have I did 
not know it at the time, as I coiild not even now tell it 
from "Dixie." But as any verse of the Bible may serve 
for a text, so the title of this old war-song is a good 
enough heading for the wayside observations of one who 
has been lately " marching through Georgia," from one 
end to the other, though he did not capture anybody, but 
on the contrary, must admit (if he had to confess the truth) 
that the peoj^le captured him. 

I " invaded " the State from the south. It is less than 
thirty miles from Tallahassee, the capital of Florida, to 
Thomasville, which (to keep up the military jjhrase) was 
my first " strategic point." This is one of the new crea- 
tions of the New South, that has sprung up in the pine 
woods. Dr. Metcalfe, the eminent physician of New York, 



98 GEORGIA LARGER THAN NEW YORK. 

" discovered " it a few years since, and finding that it 
combined many of the features which he desired, recom- 
mended it to his patients as a sanitarium for invalids, from 
which (as is often the case) it became a fashionable resort 
for a great many besides, chiefly well-to-do people from 
Northern cities, who, not being kept at home by business, 
sought a pleasant retreat from the severity of their own 
climate. It has no great attractions of scenery, but is in a 
rolling and well wooded country, far enough away from 
the sea to escape the damp air, so trying to weak lungs. 
Here a number of fine hotels have been built in the woods, 
where one sitting on a broad verandah, may not only 
breathe an atmosphere that is dry and pure, but inhale 
the balmy odors of the forest. I am not surprised to find 
these pleasant camping grounds taken possession of by 
large colonies of Northerners, who swoop down on them 
" like the wolf on the fold " — a class of " invaders," how- 
ever, more welcome than the soldiers of Sherman, since, 
instead of coming with guns in their hands, they bring no 
other weapon than the gold which they scatter lavishly in 
a region where it is greatly needed. 

One has hardly an idea of the dimensions of Georgia, 
until he makes a journey across its whole length or breadth, 
as it stretches one way nearly five degrees of latitude, and 
the other as many of longitude. It is called the Empire 
State of the South, as New York is the Empire State of 
the North ; but this does it injustice as to its magnitude, 
for it is larger in territory than New York by more than 
ten thousand square miles, the figures being for New York 
47,003 square miles, and for Georgia 58,0^0! The latter 
has not indeed some features of our Northern " Empire," 
such as the Great Lakes on one border, and the mighty 
Port, which receives the commerce of all parts of the 
world, on the other ; yet it has beauties of its own. If it 



LINE OF Sherman's march to the sea. 99 

has no Alpine heights covered with eternal snow, Like 
Mount Hood, or other peaks on the Pacific Coast, it has 
sufficient variety in a surface which stretches from the 
mountains to the sea. On the north, the great Appalachian 
chain (which, coming down from Virginia, forms the 
boundary between the States on its eastern and its west- 
ern slope, having the Carolinas on the one hand, and Ken- 
tucky and Tennessee on the other) at last looks down upon 
Georgia. From this mountain chain the Savannah river, 
running to the sea, divides Georgia fi-om South Carolina, 
while the Chattahoochee, tm'ning southward to the Gulf 
of Mexico, divides it from Alabama. Within these boun- 
daries of nature lies the broad imperial domain of a State, 
in which there are no less than one hundred and thirty- 
seven counties, and which has three millions of inhabit- 
ants. 

Central Georgia has not in its appearance much to 
attract the eye of a stranger. It has not even the interest 
of war, for Sherman's march from Atlanta was to the 
southeast, in the general direction of the Savannah river, 
though often at a long distance from it. The country is 
flat, and the towns have a rough frontier look, like the new 
settlements in the Territories of the West. Nowhere does 
one see the finished beauty of our New England villages. 
But my curiosity is always piqued to observe the mixed 
population. Some travellers note peculiarities of Southern 
dialect, but I do not see that they are greater than those 
at the North, or that the New Englander who " guesses," 
has much to boast over the Southerner who "reckons." 
The negroes are a source of infinite amusement, as they 
swarm around every railway station, as if they had nothing 
to do but to enjoy this idleness — always happy, as they are 
easily pleased, any poor joke being enough to set them 
grinning from ear to ear. 



100 SOLDIER AND PREACHER. 

In the crowds that fill the trains — it is a great mystery 
to me where they all come fi'om and go to — there are 
many strongly marked faces of men whom it would be a 
pleasure to know. Whenever I see a man enter the car 
who has lost an arm or a leg, I set him down as an old 
soldier, and have a great desire to take a seat by him, 
and hear him fight his battles over again, for, strange to 
say, instead of being full of bitterness, and cherishing old 
animosities, no class are so free fi-om them as these war- 
worn veterans. 

Among these was a man of fine presence, with an air 
half military, half ministerial, with whom, as he took a 
seat beside me, I fell in conversation. He proved to be, 
as I had thought, an old soldier, who, when he laid down 
his arms, took to preaching the Gospel. Having served 
in the army of the Confederacy, did not unfit him at all for 
serving in the army of the Lord. On the contrary, it 
rather fitted him for his special duty, inasmuch as he is 
now a presiding elder in the Methodist Church — a position 
in which he has at once to command and to obey. I have 
often thought that a little of this military discipline would 
not be a bad thing for any of us, ministers or laymen. 
We talked about the war with as much freedom as about 
poUtics or chui'ches. As a soldier he had fought for the 
cause which he thought to be right, and I have no doubt 
fought bravely. Perhaps some of my Northern fi-iends 
may think I failed in my duty that I did not seize the 
oppoi-tunity to give him " a piece of my mind " on " the 
sin of rebeUion," with an exhortation to repentance ; 
but, as that might have been followed by a piece of his 
mind on the wickedness (as he would look upon it) of 
invading his State, I do not think the conversation would 
have been j^rolitable to either. He talked very frankly, 
yet without a particle of bitterness, nor did the fact that 



THROUGH MACON TO ATLANTA. 101 

he liad left an arm on the field of battle make him feel 
that he had a right to hate every man who hailed from the 
North. So the conversation ran on for an hour, till he 
reached his home, when I was truly sorry to jDart from him; 
since I had found in him one who was certainly not an 
enemy, and " no more a stranger," but " a brother in the 
household of faith," whom, if I do not meet again this 
side of the river, I trust I shall meet when we both have 
"passed over the river, and rest under the trees." 

It was evening when we reached Macon, and I saw it 
only as we passed round it, getting ghmpses here and there 
into the lighted streets. I was sorry not to see it in the 
broad light of day, for it is reputed to be one of the most 
beautiful cities in the South, on high ground, and laid out 
in broad streets, lined with trees, with two or three colleges 
and other public institutions. 

But another hundred miles remained of our long jour- 
ney before we should finish our " marching through Geor- 
gia," and it was after ten o'clock when we rolled into the 
station at Atlanta, where the first face to greet me was that 
of Mr. Samuel M. Inman, who was waiting for me with his 
carriage, in which he " took me to his o^vn home." De- 
lightful it was, after a long day's journey, to be once more 
in that sweet atmosphere, to look in kindly faces, and 
receive the greeting of kindly voices. In such a home I 
spent the three or four days of my stay in Atlanta. 

Of all the cities in the South this attracts me most — 
perhaps because I know it best — but apart from any per- 
sonal associations, it has attractions of its own. It is a 
new city, risen from the ashes in which it was consumed a 
quarter of a century ago. And often it is with cities as 
with men, a resui-rection is not only a rising to a new life 
but a better life than that it had before. I beheve the 
people of Chicago look back upon the great fire that laid 



102 RESUKRECTION OF A CITY. 

a large part of their city in aslies, as in the end a blessing 
— a hard discipHne, it is true, but one in which good came 
out of evil. So with Atlanta ; it seems not only to have 
sprung to a new life, but a far more vigorous hfe than it 
had before. Now it is not altogether a Southern city, but 
as in the old days it was sometimes said of a conservative 
pohtician, that he was " a Northern man with Southern 
principles," so reversing the pithy epigram, we may say of 
Atlanta that it is a Southern city with Northern energy 
and enterprise. More than any other city I know, it has 
shaken off the incubus of old habits, the result of old 
institutions, and sprung forward like a giant to run a race. 
In the old slavery days there was a sort of slipshod air 
about everything and everybody ; planters were head over 
heels in debt, falhng behind from year to year ; trying in 
vain to extricate themselves ; now selling their slaves one 
after another, even to the family servants ; and not unfre- 
quently the old plantation had to be mortgaged, till in 
cases not a few, the proud possessers of old estates, and the 
inheritors of honored names, had to go forth at last from 
the mansions which they had received from their fathers to 
eat the bitter bread of poverty. 

At last by the hard discipline of war, this downward 
tendency has been checked, and now the movement is the 
other way. The power to endm-e hai-dship, which was 
developed in war, has been turned to the arts of peace. 
Poverty begets industry, and industry begets prosperity. 
When people are not ashamed to work, nor to economize, 
they soon grow rich ; and so it is that Atlanta has become 
the prosperous city that it is to-day. 

But it is not merely a money-making town, where 
nothing is thought of but the almighty doUar : it is hon- 
orably distinguished for the attention paid to education, as 
shown in its schools and higher institutions, the latest of 



CHURCHES AND MINISTERS. 103 

which, an Institute of Technology, is modelled after that 
of Boston. 

Well provided also is it with churches, which are both 
numerous and strong. One cannot spend a Sunday here 
without feeling that it is eminently a church-going city. 
All denominations flourish. The two largest bodies in the 
South are the Baptists and the Methodists. The former 
are well represented, as everywhere in Georgia ; while the 
Methodists, if they will pardon the expression, " keep up 
steam " at a tremendous rate. This is not meant as a 
flippant remark — for I could not speak lightly of a body 
which I greatly love and honor. From the day that Wesley 
preached in the American colonies, and laid the founda- 
tions of Methodism this side the Atlantic, his followers 
have been pioneers in carrying the Gospel into waste 
places. All honor to them for the courage and self-sacri- 
fice with which they have gone before to prepare the way 
of the Lord ! 

Nor have the Presbj'terians any reason to be ashamed, 
for their churches also are both numerous and strong. 
Dr. Barnett is now absent on a pilgrimage to the Holy 
Land, sent by the generous kindness of a people who know 
how to appreciate one of the best of ministers. Dr. 
Strickler, like many others of the leading preachers of the 
South, had had his military discipline and experience. 
When the war Jaroke out he was in College at Lexington, 
Virginia ; and about the time that Stonewall Jackson left 
the Military Institute to enter on his memorable career, 
a number of the students formed a company, of which 
young Strickler was chosen captain, and fought in a num- 
ber of battles, until at Gettysburg he was wounded and 
taken prisoner. It was, if I remember rightly, more than 
a year that he was confined at the North — a time that 
would be wearisome to most, but which he did not pass in 



104 A PRISONER LEARNS TWO LANGUAGES ! 

idleness, for in it lie applied himself to study, under the 
instruction of a learned fellow-prisoner, and it is said, made 
himself master of two languages ! "When at last he was 
exchanged and returned to Richmond, he and his fellow- 
prisoners expected to be received with a joyous welconle ; 
but as they steamed up the James river and came to the 
familiar landing, they were surprised at the absence not 
only of enthusiasm, but of people. The streets were 
almost deserted, ominous token of an impending flight. 
He slept there that night, paying (as he told me) seventy- 
five doUars for his lodging ! (so worthless had the Confed- 
erate money become), and got out of the city by the first 
train the next morning, fortunately for himself, for in less 
than a week the crash came, and all the means of transport- 
ation were choked up by the mass of those fleeing from 
the city. This is the man, who, having endiu'ed hardness 
as a soldier, is now a soldier of Jesus Christ, with a manner 
so kindly and gentle that it is hard to realize that he ever 
led a charge on the field of battle ! As a pastor he is 
greatly beloved by the large congregation to which he min- 
isters, and respected by the whole community. 

Georgia has vast natural resources, the materials in 
herself of great prosperity. In mineral wealth, in coal 
and iron, she is perhajos not the equal of her sister State, 
Alabama ; but in products of the soil far richer : first of 
all in the fruits of the earth needed for man's subsistence : 
in a rice crop second only to that of South Carolina ; and 
sweet j)otatoes, the food of the South, second only to that 
of North Carolina ; while her cotton crop, second only to 
that of Mississippi, furnishes the staple of foreign com- 
merce, that brings to her planters the money of the manu- 
factvirers of both New England and Old England. 

With such elements of wealth, the credit of the State, 
if not quite so high as that of New York or Massachusetts, 



THE GOVERNOR AND HIS OLD SOLDIERS. 105 

is higher than was that of any one of the States, or even 
of the National Government itself, before the wsli'. 

Apart from this, the government of the State is a good 
government — it is in good and honest hands, by which the 
laws are faithfully administered. The present Governor, 
General John B. Gordon, is the most popular man in the 
State, if not in the South — a popularity which he owes 
undoubtedly to his services in the war. The man who 
followed the foi-tunes of the Confederacy till the last hour, 
and stood by the side of General Lee when he surrendered 
at AjDpomattox, will never be forgotten by his soldiers. 
Nor does he forget them. If there be any class for which 
he feels most, it is Confederate soldiers, who are left pen- 
niless and destitute. The Union soldiers are provided for 
munificently by a government that is rich, and that scat- 
ters among the veterans nearly a hundi'ed millions a year. 
But the soldiers of a Lost Cause have no National Govern- 
ment to look to — nothing but State authority, and the 
charity of their old comrades, many of whom are as poor 
as they. Georgia gives a hundred dollars a year to each of 
her own soldiers who has lost a leg or an arm. But that 
is a j)ittance for those who have famihes dependent on 
them. Sitting in the Governor's room one day, he told of 
the destitution of old soldiers, scarred with wounds, una- 
ble to work, yet who had wives and children in absolute 
want. Almost every day they came to him with the same 
pitiful story. Only last week, he said, came in an old man, 
who began : " Governor, I have not seen you since the war," 
and after telling the story of his life, said : " Now I am an 
old man, with seven daughters, and not money enough to 
buy a loaf of bread ! " With this, said the Governor, " he 
sat down in that chair, and wept like a child." No wonder 
that the hero who has led these very men to battle, should 
be touched to the heart by the sorrows of his old compan- 



106 THE QUESTION THAT FOLLOWS WAR. 

ions-in-arms, and that it should he the dream of his life to 
establish a Confederate Soldiers Home, where these wrecks 
of the war should be saved from any further " going to 
pieces." He would not have them separated from their 
families, and put as pensioners in a kind of pubUc alms- 
house, but be gathered in a number of homes, under a 
general management, where there should be some simple 
industries, by which they could do a little towards their 
own suj)port. Thus they would be shielded from want, 
and be able to pass the evening of their days in quietness 
and peace. 

Of such a governor Georgia may well be proud, and 
not less of his heroic wife, who for four years followed the 
camp, never being out of the sound of battle, when there 
was need for her womanly courage and devotion. Atlanta 
has many old soldiers, whom the South counts among her 
bravest and her best, and who, after being foremost in 
war, are now foremost in peace. The city and all the 
country round are full of stirring associations ; and as 
we walk through these bustling streets, there seems almost 
a disaccord between this business activity and the mighty 
memories that gather, like dark clouds, on the siirroimd- 
ing hiUs. But so it is that the Dead Past is merged 
in the Living Present. As the centre of such a mingled 
life, where the Old South and the New South come to- 
gether, Atlanta sets one thinking of the war, and of the 
terrible problem that it has left behind it ; and so it is a 
good place to linger, while we consider the great question 
of Eace which now confronts our American civilization. 



CHAPTER IX. 

THE BLACK BELT THE DEAD LION SPEAK GENTLY 

OF THE DEAD ! 

As I came up from the Gulf States, I had crossed the 
Black Belt — the portion of the South most densely popu- 
lated by the black race. It is not a fixed zone, running 
between two parallels of latitude, but surges back and 
forth, like an ocean current where two seas meet, now 
rising and roUing on, and now falling back, as if sinking 
away into fathomless depths below ; but covering all to- 
gether a vast surface, reaching half way across the conti- 
nent. In this enormous Belt there are places where the 
blacks form fifty, sixty, and even seventy and eighty, per 
cent, of the population. Along this hne of deep shadows 
lies the great problem of American poHtics and American 
history. 

So rapid has been the march of events that it is hard 
to realize that, within the memory of men still in their 
early prime, this was a population of slaves ; that they 
were bondmen in the land of Egypt, out of which the 
Lord brought them, though not by the way of the Red 
Sea ! "What had seemed impossible was accomplished, not 
by insurrections, not by massacre, but by a struggle in 



108 UNCLE TOM'S cabin. 

wliich they took no sliare, but of wliicli tliey were to re- 
ceive the benefit. To-day, as we look back at the change, 
there is something appalling in the stillness of death that 
has come over a Power that but lately held the land in 
awe ! 

But there is an old saying, honored for thousands of 
years, that we should speak kindly of the dead. It may 
seem indeed a strange moment to preach a funeral oration 
when the corpus vile is lying, like a dead lion, in the streets, 
for every ass to kick at. But it is the chivalrous custom 
of soldiers, not to bear even an enemy to the grave, with- 
out some remembrance of the brave deeds that he has 
done, that may redeem his evil career. In this spuit let 
us say a good word, if we can, for the old African lion 
that fought so hard for its life, but to which none is now 
" so poor as to do it reverence." 

The system of slavery that has now passed into his- 
tory, is known to us of the present day chiefly through 
"Uncle Tom's Cabin" — that marvellous story, so vivid, so 
dramatic, so intense in interest, written with a degree of 
womanly feeling and pathos that at once caught the ear 
of the world, till it was translated into all languages, and 
made the circuit of the globe, filling aU civilized nations 
with horror at the cruelties and crimes of American slave- 
ry. The book was true- — that is to say, it was a possible 
truth ; it depicted what might have been a fearful reality. 
AU that it tells might have taken place on a plantation in 
Louisiana ; but whether it did take place (except in rare 
instances), is another question. Its Southern critics say 
that it gave but one side to the picture ; while there was 
another that was kept in the background, which needed 
to be brought forward in clear relief, to see the whole sur- 
roundings of the system of slavery. 

This criticism is not strictly accurate : for no fair-mind- 



SOFTER FEATURES OF SLAVERY. 109 

ed reader cau say that Uncle Tom's Cabin gives but one 
side of slavery — the dark side — as it contains some exqui- 
site i^ictures of plantation life in the old days of Louisiana, 
that furnish a relief to the blackness that foUows ; but it 
is true that, while there are these vivid contrasts in the 
picture, yet the story is so told that the dominant impres- 
sion is one of unmingled horror, and this it is of which 
Southern men complain as unjust to the truth of history. 

Certainly the pictures of slavery that were drawn with 
such power, and took such hold of the imagination that 
they even haunted us in our dreams, were very different 
from the milder form of servitude known to most of the 
Southern peoj)le, to whom it was a part of their domestic 
life. The relations of the two races were the closest. The 
negroes were not only a part of every community, but 
members of every household. Though they stood in the 
relation of servants to their white masters, yet they 
" belonged to the family," and were the objects of a degree 
of fanaily affection. White children, almost as soon as 
they were born, were placed in the arms of black nurses, 
who cared for them in babyhood and childhood. This 
constant intimacy naturally led to the warmest attach- 
ments, which often continued when the children had grown 
to be men and women. "Whoever has known the Southern 
people must have been struck with the way in which 
not only women, but strong men, not given to sentiment, 
speak of the old " aunties " and " mammies " who cared 
for them in the years of their childhood. 

As to Hfe on the plantations, those who remember it 
teU us that they were conducted on a rather easy-going 
system. The masters were not cruel men, nor even hard 
men, who overworked the negroes, or subjected them to 
undue severity. Indeed they were proverbially indulgent, 
rather slipshod in business matters, and disposed to let 



no LIFE ox THE OLD PLANTATION. 

things run along pretty much as they might. The plant- 
er's house, with its wide porches and broad verandas, was 
the centre of a little settlement, in the background of 
which were rows of cabins neatly whitewashed. During 
the day the men were in the fields, where the labor was 
not hard, except perhaps at the time of the cotton-picking 
or getting in the sugar-cane. While they were thus occu- 
pied, the women were out of doors in the sun, doing their 
various kinds of work, singing some plantation melody ; 
while the pickaninnies were scattered about in costumes 
which, if not very neat and trim, were at least free and easy. 
Pass along these cottages at the close of a Summer's day, 
and you might see pictures indicative of anything but op- 
pression or unhappiness. The negroes are a mirth-loving 
race, and the thrumming of a banjo, to the tune of some 
poor ditty, was enough to gather a group of these children 
of nature, as merry as nature intended them to be. 

This is a very picturesque scene. But it was some- 
times rudely interruj)ted. The master was very apt to 
find, after some experience, that the old plantation, run in 
this easy-going way, was run at a loss ; and that at the 
end of the year he was in debt, and going from bad to 
worse ; so that, to save himself, he was obliged to get an 
overseer, who would not lie abed quite so late in the morn- 
ing, but would be up at daybreak, riding over the planta- 
tion, seeing that every hand was at work, and keeping 
them at it till the sun went down. It was these overseers, 
who were generally Northern men, to whom should be as- 
cribed the use of the lash, and most of the severities and 
brutalities, on the old plantations. 

In this family — comprising perhaps, in men, women, 
and children, hundreds of souls — the one on whom came 
the heaviest burden, was not the negro, nor the planter, 
but the planter's wife, who was at the head of the large 



DEVOTION TO THE WHITES DURING THE WAR. Ill 

household, and supervdsed it all, laying out the work for 
the women, often cutting their dresses with their own 
hands, thus making herself the slave of her slaves. Nor 
should it be forgotten how she made her round among 
the cabins, looking after the sick, and not seldom kneehng 
by the side of some old mammy or aunty, to pray with 
her, and support her with the consolations of religion. 

This affectionate care was repaid with gratitude and de- 
votion. The negro race has its weaknesses and infirmities ; 
but whatever these may be, it is at least capable of a de- 
gree of afiection that sometimes leads them to forget their 
own interests. Of this the most conspicuovis example was 
given in the late war, when in many cases the whole male 
portion of the family, aU at least capable of bearing arms, 
marched to the field, leaving their wives and children 
whoUy to the care of the blacks. Then was their oppor- 
tunity to break away and strike for freedom, at the same 
time striking terror into the defenceless households. But 
not once, even in the darkest hours of the war, did they 
harm those left to their care, nor leave them to shift for 
themselves. Instead of violence, they gave protection; 
instead of neglect, they worked the fields, and raised the 
crops, and fed the families of their absent masters, who 
were engaged in a war, the result of which would be, if 
successful, to keep these very laborers in perpetual bond- 
age. 

But this was not aU. In many cases masters sent their 
most trusted servants to the war, to look after the safety 
and comfort of their own sons who were in the army. 
My friend. Major Baxter of NashviUe, teUs me of a case 
within his knowledge, where a young man — a mere boy — 
seized as boys at that day were apt to be (whether they 
hved at the North or South), with a desire to see the war, 
was at last permitted by his father to go, but only because 



112 TIIK SIIADOAV BKIIIND THE SCENE. 

Le could send Lim with a trusted family servant to look 
after him, avLo of coui'se felt tliat lie had the authority of 
an old uncle. As it hajDj^ened, in some petty affaii' the boy 
received a trifling "wound, a mere scratch, that caused the 
blood to trickle, which no sooner caught the eye of the old 
darky, than he took the youngster in hand in the most 
vigorous manner, calling him to account in this fashion : 
" What shall I say to my ole massa, who sent me to look 
ai'ter you, when here j'ou've been done gone and got 
hurt?" 

Tlius did the blacks follow their masters in camp and 
field, as faithfully as they hud worked for them on the old 
plantations. Never in the history of the world w^as there 
greater devotion of one race to another, for which the 
white people of the South owe to their former slaves a 
debt of gratitude which they can never repay. 

Looking back to these happy scenes, which he dimly 
remembers, Mr. Grady has several times expressed to me 
his earnest wish that some one of the young writers of 
the South, who show such genius and give such promise, 
should write a tale of Southern life in the old days, that 
should be an offset to Uncle Tom's Cabin, bringing into 
clearer light the softer aspects of the patriarchal institu- 
tion. I doubt if he will ever find his man or his story: 
for if the writer would avoid the jiartisanship which is 
ascribed to IVIrs. Stowe, he must tell the truth, and the 
whole truth ; and he knows the awful possibility that 
lui-ked, as a shadow, behind all that gayety and hapj^iness. 
He knows how a turn of fortune would have sent all those 
hapj)y creatiu'es to the block. A.fiiend who sj^ent a Win- 
ter on a plantation at the South, in a family of the high- 
est culture and Christian character, tells us that there ex- 
isted the greatest affection towards the servants, which 
showed itself in many ways : as, for instance, a marriage 



THINGS WHICH CANNOT BE DEFENDED. 113 

among the latter was tlie occasion of a rural fete as pretty 
as if for a son or daughter of the family. Here surely 
slavery appeared in its least repulsive form. And yet, on 
the very next plantation, the cruelty to the slaves vv^as a 
scandal that was the talk of all the country round ; and 
on a still night one might hear the baying of the blood- 
hounds, that told how the hunters were puj-suing the fugi- 
tives in the forest ! These are things which cannot be cov- 
ered up by flowers of rhetoric ; that cannot be turned into 
poetry. For these slavery has received the condemnation 
of the civUized world, and it is too late to ask for a rever- 
sal of the decree. No young author could afford to risk 
his reputation by writing a book to ajDologize for slavery : 
it would be howled down as soon as it was born. No man 
is strong enough to fight against the sympathies of the age. 
There are some things which are as impossible in litera- 
ture as in actual life, and one of these is to resuscitate 
what is dead and buried, or to clothe with dignity what 
men have pronounced accujrsed. For these things it 
" behooved the Loixl " that the system should come to an 
end — and it came ! 

But aU was not joy when it came. Liberty has its 
hardships as well as slavery. The master's hand might 
be heavy, but it carried with it protection and support, 
shelter and food and raiment — substantial realities to be 
set in the balance against freedom. IVIiriam sang the de- 
Hverance of her people on the shore of the Red Sea, but 
it was not long before they sighed for the banks of the 
Nile. So slavery, with all its harshness, took care of num- 
bers who could not take care of themselves, and who but 
for their kind masters would have been utterly destitute ; 
but who, under this rule, were not cast off in the time of 
sickness or old age, but had at least a place to die. 

All this is now over. ^Tien the Day of Jubilee was 



114 THE BREAKING OF OLD TIES. 

come, the negroes received as their legacy from the war the 
priceless boon of freedom. But with all the exultation of 
their new-found liberty, many of the poor creatures must 
have felt their heartstrings pull as they turned their backs 
on the old plantations, with the world all before them 
where to choose. It was a very big world, but to many of 
them it must have been a very cold world ; and we cannot 
blame them if, like lost children, they sometimes sighed 
for the shelter of their old homes. The negro is a very 
domestic creature ; he loves familiar scenes ; and he clung 
to old Massa and Missus, to whom he had been accustom- 
ed to look for protection. But they too are gone. The 
two races are parted forever : parted in their homes — the 
cabins stand no longer in the shadow of the planter's 
house, but far away in the lonely forest — parted in their 
domestic Hfe ; parted in every interest ; parted even in 
the worship of God. There is something very pathetic in 
this rupture of old ties, cleaving not only through house- 
holds, but through churches. Not only do the two races 
stand apart in all domestic relations, but they cannot even 
go to the house of God in company. In the old days the 
colored people were a part of every congregation, and a very 
numerous and picturesque part. In the great churches of 
Charleston and Savannah the galleries were black with 
Africans, among whom were many bouncing matrons, 
resplendent in a blaze of highly colored dresses, with their 
heads wrapped in gorgeous turbans of red bandannas, in 
which they shone in a glory quite equal to that of their 
masters and mistresses whom they looked down upon. 
Now all that has departed. Now and then a solitary, woe- 
begone darky may come back to the old church, and 
creep into a corner and think of other days, but the poetry 
and the picturesqueness are gone forever. 

Since then twenty-five years have passed, and what is 



HEWERS OF WOOD AND DRAWERS OF WATER. 115 

the result of the experiment of freedom ? We find that the 
emancipation of the blacks has wrought no change in their 
industrial position ; that they are still hewers of wood and 
drawers of water to their old masters, though they are no 
longer bondmen, but freedmen, receiving wages for their 
labor. In this readiness to work under the new condi- 
tions, they have disproved the confident declaration of 
their enemies, that black labor must always be forced 
labor ; that the negro was such an idle creature that he 
must be compelled to work by some legal power ; that if 
he were not driven to the field by the lash, he must be 
subject to some more or less gentle compulsion. Some 
prophets of evil at the close of the war, went so far as to 
predict that society would go to pieces ; that four millions 
of slaves, set free, would refuse to work ; that they would 
become idlers and vagabonds, and finally thieves, robbers, 
and murderers ; till life would become absolutely intoler- 
able, and the whites would have to flee for refuge to some 
part of the earth which still retained a trace of order and 
civilization. 

This fear has been entirely dispelled. The negroes were 
perhaps a little frisky at their first experience of freedom, 
and may have taken a good spell of idleness just to know 
"how it felt." But the result proved that the poet wrote 

truly: 

" O nebber you fear 

If nebber you hear 

De driver blow his horn ! " 

After " lying off " for a few days or weeks, they slowly 
came back to the old plantations, resuming their places in 
the fields, only receiving wages, like other hired laborers. 
The result has been satisfactory. I know it is said that 
they are lazy and shiftless, and this is true to some 
extent, particularly in towns, where they idle about the 



116 INCREASE OF THE COLOUED RACE. 

streets. But generally the habit of obedience to their old 
masters, and the pleasant feeling they have when at the 
close of the day or the week, they have dropped into their 
hands the bright silver doUars, has brought them back to 
habits of industry. The prediction that they would not 
work, has been answered by themselves in the fact that 
they do work, of which this very year (1889) furnishes 
magnificent proof in the largest cotton crop ever known, 
exceeding that in the year before the war by over two 
millions of bales ! True, this enormous production is as- 
cribed in part to white labor. So much the better, as it 
proves that those who once disdained the hard work of 
the field, have now put their strong arms to the task of 
Southern regeneration. Yet, with aU that they have done, 
the heaviest part of the burden has been borne on the 
stalwart African shoulders. 

But the most notable fact which this quarter of a cen- 
tury has demonstrated, is the prodigious physical vitality of 
the black race. When slavery was abolished, some shrewd 
observers predicted that it would result in their complete 
extinction. This was gravely expressed in the most opposite 
quarters, as an illustration of which I give the opinions of 
two distinguished men, representing the extreme wings — 
Dr. Palmer of New Orleans and Theodore Parker. The 
foi*mer, in a sermon preached before the war, afiirmed of 
the negro in so many words, "His freedom is his destruction "; 
and Theodore Parker, champion as he was of the colored 
people, thought they were such a weak race— ^ so helpless 
and dependent, and so utterly incapable of taking care of 
themselves — that, if set free, they would dwindle and disap- 
pear. He said, " When slavery is abolished, the African pop- 
ulation wiU decline in the United States, and die out of the 
South as out of Northampton and Lexington ! " NatviraUy 
we look upon these strange predictions as relics of a pre- 



A POPULATION OF SEVEN MILLIONS ! lit 

historic age, and yet within a few weeks I have received a 
speech by an Alabama Senator, in which he argues at 
great length that " the African cannot survive in America," 
and that "freedom has sealed the fate of the colored man! " 
Well ! if he is going to die out in the land, he takes a long 
time about it, and enters on the task of self-extinction in 
a strange way. "Whether it be according to any law by 
which races living in poverty, with scant clothing and hard 
fare — or, as some philosophers would say, Hving nearer to 
nature — multiply more rapidly than those living in com- 
parative luxury, the fact is ajiparent that the black race, in- 
stead of diminishing, has increased ; some say much faster 
than the whites ; that while the whites have also increased, 
the blacks have swarmed ! The relative proportion can 
only be decided by the next census. But, even admitting 
the increase of the two races to be equal, that alone shows 
in the black race a physical vitality which will give it 
streng-th to live for many generations. 

In 18G5, when the war closed, there were four millions 
of colored people in the Southern States ; to-day there are 
seven millions — an increase of three miUions in twenty-five 
years, or over a hundred thousand a year ! Thus, instead 
of dying out, the race increases with great rapidity ; the 
Black Belt grows denser and blacker, till it lies like a 
dark thundercloud along the Southern horizon. 



CHAPTEE X. 

A NEW DEPAETURE THE NEGRO VOTE. 

The fidelity of the blacks to the whites during the war, 
we shoiild suppose, would hare awakened in the latter a 
feeling of gratitude to those to whom they owed so much, 
and made their relations closer than ever. So it might 
have been if these had remained unchanged. So long as 
the two races lived together as masters and servants, there 
was no friction between them, as the one was subject to 
the other, and its attitude was that of submission and obe- 
dience. But when the war was over, and the sky had 
cleared, " old things had passed away, and all things had 
become new." There had been an upheaval and disloca- 
tion of the f onner strata of society ; so that those who had 
been accustomed to look down upon their inferiors, sud- 
denly found themselves standing on the same level and in 
close proximity. There were no longer masters and slaves, 
but simply white and black "fellow-citizens." * From that 

* This is the order of events, which shows the several stages 
of progress : 

In the early part of the war Mr. Lincoln had been urged by 
the more pronounced anti-slavery men to issue a Proclamation 
of Emancipation ; but with his usual caution, he hesitated and 



FROM EMANCIPATION TO CITIZENSHIP. 119 

moment jealousies arose which did not exist before, and a 
process of alienation began, which has continued to widen 
till the two races now stand apart in complete separation. 
The climax was reached when, iu addition to the fullest 

delayed from month to month, hoping that the ending of the 
war would render such an extreme measure unnecessary. But 
as it still went on with increasing bitterness and doubtful issue, 
he began to perceive that in the last resort he might be com- 
pelled to take this step ; and on the 22d of September, 18G2, 
(within a week after the battle of Antietam, when perhaps he 
thought the South might be more disposed to listen to reason) 
he sounded the first note of warning : that if it persisted in re- 
bellion, in just one hundred days from that date — viz : on the 
1st of January, 1863 — he would issue a Proclamation declaring 
that "all persons held as slaves within any State, the people 
whereof should be in rebellion against the United States, should 
be then, thenceforward, and forever fkee." The warning was 
not heeded. The war went on, and on the appointed day the 
thunderbolt fell in that great Proclamation of Emancipation, 
which was to mark the beginning of a new era in American his- 
tory. It closed with these memorable words : "And upon this 
act, sincerely believed to be an act of justice, warranted by the 
Constitution upon military necessity, I invoke the considerate 
judgment of mankind and the gracious favor of Almighty God." 

In the very year that the war ended, 1865, slavery was forever 
abolished by the Thirteenth Amendment to the Constitution, 
which declares that "neither slavery, nor involuntary servitude, 
except as a punishment for crime, whereof the party shall have 
been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any 
place subject to their jurisdiction." Three years later, in 1868, 
was added the Fourteenth Amendment, securing, not only the 
liberty of the blacks, but their citizenship, as it declared that "all 
persons born or naturalized in the United States are citizens," 
and that of their privileges as such they cannot be deprived by 
any State ; and in 1870 came the Fifteenth, and last. Amend- 
ment, that "the right of the citizens of the United States to 
vote, shall not be denied or abridged by the United States, or by 
any State, on account of race, color, or previous condition of 
servitude." 



120 THE VOTE NOT A NATURAL RIGHT. 

personal liberty, tlie blacks were raised still higber, and 
invested with political power. Tbis is not included in 
freedom. Alexander II. emancipated twenty millions of 
serfs in Russia, but tbat did not give tbem tbe rigbt to 
vote. Neitber did it give tbe rigbt to tbe freed slaves of 
America. It is important to keep tbese two tbings distinct. 
Personal liberty may be a natural rigbt, but tbe privilege 
of voting certainly is not. We bave beard a great deal of 
late of "manbood suffrage " (wbicb bas a brave sound, tbat 
fits it to be a political war-cry), as if suffrage were a rigbt 
wbicb attacbed to every man, of woman born, bowever igno- 
rant, tbougb be were a fool or an idiot, for tbis did not 
destroy tbe fact tbat be was still a man ! In all tbe coun- 
tries of Europe tbat bave free institutions, even in aristo- 
cratic England, tbere bas been a tendency towards tbis 
feature of a pure democracy. Every few years tbere bas 
been an extension of tbe suffrage, making tbe qualifica- 
tions less rigid, tiU now tbe voting class includes almost 
tbe wbole population of England. Tbese cbanges Ameri- 
cans are wont to bail as movements in tbe direction of lib- 
erty. But wbetber tbey are in tbe dii-cction of good gov- 
ernment, is anotber question. Tbat depends on wbetber 
tbose to wbom tbe vote is given are fit to use it. If not, 
every extension of tbe suffrage, so far from being a step in 
tbe way of progress, is a step backward towards barbarism. 
It is tbis absurd notion of natural rigbts, carried to tbe 
utmost extreme, tbat bes at tbe bottom of all tbe false and 
destructive tbeories of socialism and communism, wbicb 
tbreaten society in tbe Old World. It is in political pbi- 
losoj^by wbat " original sin " is in tbeology — tbe " primeval 
curse," tbe "Adam's fall, in wbicb we sinned all." 

From tbat entailed curse no nation bas suffered more 
tban our own. Tbe first downward plunge was made 
wben tbe suffrage was given to tbe immigrants just landed 



IMPORTING RULERS BY THE CARGO. 121 

on our shores. History could not furnish a better argu- 
ment against the suicidal foUy of giving political power to 
those who are utterly incompetent to use it. Universal suf- 
frage is weU enough in New England, in the country towns, 
where there is general intelligence, and the people have 
been trained to voting in their town elections ; but to give 
it to the ignorant creatures that are " dumped," like cattle, 
on our wharves, is the very insanity of democracy. We 
have found what a terrible curse it is in New York city, 
where we are overrun by these hordes that have not the 
remotest idea of American institutions. "We import igno- 
rance by the cargo, and set it up to mle over us. IVIr. 
Hugh McCuUoch, in his recent admirable volume, argues 
that the giving of the suffrage to aU the immigrants that 
land upon our shores, is the great danger of the Republic. 

But, as if it were not enough to commit one such folly, 
we must add another, and a greater, in giving the same 
unrestricted suffrage to the negroes of the South. Not 
that it is any worse to give the vote to ignorant blacks 
than to ignorant whites, [it is not the color I object to, 
but the ignorance wherever it exists, in white or black — 
the mistake is as great in the one case as in the other,] 
it is worse only in that it is far greater in amount ; that 
whereas the immigrants in our Northern cities are coTinted 
by tens of thousands, the blacks in the South are counted 
by millions. One folly does not excuse another ; it should 
rather be a warning against it ; and the horrible blunder 
that was made in giving the vote to the "raw Irish," 
should have warned us against plunging into a still deeper 
abyss by giving it to the blacks without reserve. 

But with a nation, as with individuals, there is some- 
times a state of the pubHc mind approaching to frenzy, 
which leads it to rush to fatal extremes. Such an access 
of rage and madness is apt to follow a civil war. It fol- 



/ 



122 LINCOLN ON POLITICAL EQUALITY. 

lowed oiu's, and there was but one man wlio could control 
it — the man who had carried the country through the war, 
and thereby acquired a boundless poj)ularity. Such a 
strong hand was needed in the critical period of recon- 
struction. How he would have acted in this very matter, 
it is not dijB&cult to see : for aU his ideas and habits of 
mind were conservative, and with his sense of humor he 
would have received a proposal to give the suffrage to the 
blacks just off the j^lantation, as a huge joke ! This was 
something which he never di'eamed of. When he wrote 
his Emancipation Proclamation, he promised the slaves 
their liberty, to be maintained by all the military forces of 
the United States ; but it never entered his head that he 
was to divide with the newly emanciiDated the business of 
the government ! On this j)oint we are not left to conjec- 
ture, for he had expressed himself in no doubtful language. 
Long before the war, in his famous joint debate with 
Douglas, in answering the question whether he was " really 
in favor of a perfect equality between the negroes and 
white people," he replied in words which could not be 
more explicit : " I am not, nor ever have been, in favor of 
bringing about in any way the social and poUtical equality 
of the white and black races. I am not, nor ever have 
been, in favor of making voters or jurors of negroes, nor 
of qualifying them to hold office, nor to intermarry with 
white people ; and I will say, in addition to this, that there 
is a j)hysical difference between the white and black races 
which I beheve will forever forbid the two races living 
together on terms of social and political equality." 

No doubt Mr. Lincoln's ideas may have been changed 
by the war, which brought an overturning of all things ; 
but it could not change the " physical difference," which, 
in his view, would '^ forever forhid the two races living to- 
gether on terms of social and political equality." Remem- 



THE PLEA OF NECESSITY. 123 

bering this, it is safe to suppose that liad he been living 
at the time this legislation was before Congress, his rug- 
ged common-sense would have perceived the fearful dan- 
ger of committing political power to such untried hands. 
Here, as in the settlement of the many oth«r difficult 
questions of reconstruction, the country was made to feel 
mournfully the want of that large, kind, gentle wisdom. 
The greatest calamity that ever happened to the South, 
wa3 the assassination of Abraham Lincoln ! When he was 
in his grave, another of quite a different stamp reigned in 
his stead, Andrew Johnson, who, with his perverse obsti- 
nacy and utter want of tact, soon succeeded in embroiling 
himself with Congress, where he was confronted in the 
House of Representatives by another man equally deter- 
mined, Thaddeus Stevens, whose imperious will made him 
the ruling spirit in that stormy time, and able to lead his 
party to any extreme of rash legislation. Between the two, 
there was little place for prudence and moderation. 

The plea for negro suffrage was one of necessity. It 
was the same argument that was used during the war to 
justify any violation of private rights or State rights, viz : 
that it was a " war measure," and was necessary to save the 
country ! The ballot was declared to be a political neces- 
sity, "unless we would sacrifice the results of the war"! 
If all power in the Southern States were left in the hands 
of the whites, they would legislate the blacks back into 
slavery ; or, if they did not, would impose such restrictions 
upon their liberty as would reduce them to a state of quasi- 
servitude. For this fear there was good reason. Hardly 
had the war closed, and the machinery of legislation been 
put in motion, before there were movements here and there 
to pass such laws as to neutralize the benefits of freedom. 
The black man was no longer a slave, but an " apprentice," 
v.fho could be " bound out " to hard labor under conditions 



124 POLITICAL CONDITIONS REVERSED. 

almost as stringent as those of criminals in the chain-gang.* 
Against this there was no insurmountable barrier but to 
give the vote to the whole negro population. Ardent par- 
tisans reasoned that a people covJd not be juggled out of 
their rights to whom the ballot was given without quali- 
fication, restriction, or limitation ! How greatly they were 
mistaken in this, the experience of a few years fuUy proved. 
To make the matter worse, not only were the blacks 
let into the citadel of power, but many of the whites were 
shut out. To be sure, they could resume their former 
position on easy terms. Says IVIr. Blaine in his History: 
" The great mass of those who had resisted the national 
authority, were restored to all their rights of citizenship 
by the simple taking of an oath of future loyalty; and 
those excepted from immediate reinstatement, were prom- 
ised fuU forgiveness on the slightest exhibition of repent- 
ance and good works." But even this requirement grated 
harshly on the proud spirits that had been leaders in the 
wai-, who held back from taking the iron-clad oath ; and 
when the blacks were admitted to the poUs en rnasse, the 
whites found themselves swamped as by an inundation. 
This was a complete revolution. Power was taken away 
from the upper classes, and given to the lower — the covirse 
directly opposed to reason and common-sense. Nature 
seems to ordain that in jDolitical societies, as in all hiunan 
affairs, intelligence shall rule over ignorance, and civiliza- 
tion over barbarism. But here this natural order was 
reversed. Ignorance was set to rule over intelligence, and 
thus the whole framework of society was turned upside 
down. That which had been at the top was savagely 

* For a full account of this Southern legislation, see Mr. 
Blaine's "Twenty Years in Congress " (Volume II., Chapter V.), 
wherein he gives such details as justify him in describing it as 
"a virtual reenactment of the slave code." 



NEGRO GOVERNMENT. 125 

thrown down and put at the bottom, and the bottom was 
dug out and put at the top. This, whatever the poHtical 
necessity that compelled it, I cannot but look upon as 
anything less than the triumph of barbarism, and a crime 
against civilization ! 

The effect was what might have been expected. The 
poor people who received the ballot hardly knew what it 
meant. They could not read the names that were wi'itten 
on it, and were ready to vote as they were told, for any- 
body living or dead — for Andrew Jackson, or George 
Washington, or Moses, or Melchisedek ! Of course they 
were the easy prey of demagogues, who could flatter them 
by appeals to negro vanity, or (what they understood still 
better) pay them for a vote, as they would for a day's 
work ; and they made a pretty mess of legislation. I was 
in Richmond soon after the war, and went up to the old 
Capitol, and saw both houses filled almost wholly with 
negroes. It was not a cheerful sight, and as I turned 
away, I could but ask myself, Is this the highest result of 
free institutions in the New World ? 

Then the beauties of negro government were illustrated 
to the fuD. In South Carolina and the Gulf States it had 
a clean sweep ; and if we are to beheve the records of the 
time, it was a period of corruption such as had never been 
known in the history of the country. The blacks, having 
nothing to lose, were ready to vote to impose any tax, or 
to issue any bonds of town, county, or State, provided they 
had a share in the booty ; and thus negro government, 
manipulated by carpet-baggers, ran riot over the South. 
It was chaos come again. The former masters were gov- 
erned by their servants, while the latter were governed by 
a set of adventurers and plunderers. The history of those 
days is one which we cannot recall without indignation and 
shame. After a time the moral sense of the North was so 



126 THE NEGRO VOTE DEFEATS ITS OBJECT. 

shocked by these performances that a RepubHcan Admin- 
istration had to withdraw its proconsuls, when things at 
once resumed their former condition, and the management 
of affairs came back into the old hands. 

Time is sure to bring its revenges ; and there seemed a 
kind of Nemesis in the issue, by which the machinery so 
elaborately prepared to perpetuate a certain rule, had ex- 
actly the opposite effect. This amazing stroke of policy 
was intended to reduce the power of the white vote by 
raising up a colored vote to offset it. But owing to the 
greater skill of the whites in the manipulating of votes, or 
their power of coaxing or overawing their former servants, 
the course of the latter was speedily reversed, and thrown 
almost solidly on the side of their old masters. And inas- 
much as the negroes were now counted in their full num- 
bers — instead of at three-fifths, as before, in fixing the 
basis of representation — the addition of their votes swelled 
enormously the political power of the South in Congress 
and in the Electoral College, and thereby in the choice of 
President of the United States ! 

Here was a shifting of the scenes which completely 
upset the calculations of the politicians. The history of 
politics is full of surprises ; but never was there a greater 
one than in the operation of negro suffrage at the South. 

Since that time things have settled down into a regular 
" system," which is simj^ly that of systematic disregard of 
the laws and the Constitution of the "United States. But 
this slight discrepancy troubles no man's conscience, as 
every man, when questioned, declares himself, like the 
toper in Maine, " in favor of the law, but ' agin ' its execu- 
tion " ! The matter is perfectly understood, and there need 
be no ambiguity about it. The negro vote, like the cotton 
crop, is always in the market, to be sold to the highest 
bidder. This seemed to be the first tangible idea which the 



THE NEGRO SELLING HIS VOTE. 12t 

blacks had of the ballot — that it was something they could 
sell, and something which they have sold fi'om that day to 
this, their chief ambition being to get a good price. The 
negro is for sale to-day as much as ever. He is put up at 
auction on the block, or rather he puts himself up. A New 
England pastor in Florida told me of a scene he witnessed 
• at the polls. A negro got up on a box, and said: "I hasn't 
voted. Does any gemman want to speak to me ? " Of 
course he found a " gemman " who was ready to whisper 
something in his ear. But he was not so simple as to take 
the first bid, and asked if " any oder gemman wanted to 
speak to him "; and after receiving several confidential 
communications, yielded to the arguments of the "gem- 
man " who spoke the loudest, or in the way that he could 
best understand. All are not so unblushing as this. One 
colored brother, I was told, had a conscience about the 
matter, and made it a principle not to take more than two 
dollars and a half for his vote, saying that "that was all it 
was worth"! 

In such hands the suffrage is a farce — not a farce in the 
sense that it is only a subject for laughter, but a horrible 
farce, in which the stake played for in this tossing of the 
dice is the government of a people that profess to be 
civiUzed, with the effect of a general demoralization of 
both races, whites and blacks, one of which thinks it is no 
harm to buy what the other is so ready to sell. So gen- 
eral has this buying and selling become, that many have 
told me that it was absolutely impossible to have an honest 
vote, and they had given it up in despair. 

From buying votes, it is but a step to fraud in counting 
them, which is cheaper, and quite as effective ; or ballot- 
boxes may be emptied of the "wrong" votes, and stuffed 
with the " right " kind. There is but one step further — 
to intimidation, when men come to the polls with shot- 



128 FRAUD AND INTIMIDATION. 

guns, not of course to do any mischief, but as a gentle 
hint to the other side that it might be safer to retire into 
the woods or to their cabins, and leave the business of 
electing public officers to those who understand it better. 
If this mere show of force does not prove sufficient, the 
guns are used in a more effective way. We hear of vio- 
lence not unfrequently ending in murder ; of midnight 
assassinations committed by masked marauders — Ku Klux 
Klans, or whatever they may be called. These outrages 
have produced at the North such a feeling of indignation, 
that there is a general outcry that stern measures be taken 
for their suppression. Of course such cowardly crimes 
should be punished with all the power of the law. The 
only question is. By what power shall they be punished ? 
Murder is a crime against the State, to be punished by the 
State. If a murder is committed in the streets of New 
York, we do not send to Washington to ask for aid in 
bringing the murderer to justice. There may be a case 
of crime so extreme, and comprehending so many persons, 
that the State authorities are powerless, and the General 
Government may be asked to interfere. Thus if there were 
a riot in this city, such as we saw in 1863, which should 
threaten, if unchecked, to overthrow all law, and perhaps 
lay the city in ashes, the President might order the troops 
from Governor's Island to give support to the police in 
enforcing order ; but surely we do not look to that source 
of authority to manage the internal affairs of our State. 
No more can it be called to perform police duty in the 
South. There, as at the North, crimes must be punished 
by the States in which they are committed. If the Gen- 
eral Government can give indirect aid, of course it will ; 
but with the best intention, it can hardly be expected to 
reach out its long arm from Washington to lay hold of 
fugitives in the swamps and cane-brakes of the South. 



DEMAND FOR A FREE BALLOT. 129 

But the demand is for the President, supj^orted by- 
Congress, to intei-fere to secure a free and honest ballot at 
the South ! This might well set us at the North to think- 
ing whether we are not responsible for this complication of 
affairs. We have forced universal suffrage upon the South, 
and now are asked to step in to save it from the natural 
consequence of our own blunders and mistakes. 

Have we well considered what it means to "regulate 
elections " at the South ? Do we mean to send an army 
there, and have soldiers stand guard at the polls? The 
experiment of military government has been tried with a 
result that is not encouraging. After the war, the power at 
command was almost absolute. When General Grant was 
President of the United States, and Commander of the 
Army and Navy, he had lieutenants in the South (all brave 
in fighting battles, but who had a limited experience in 
civil Hfe) that were ready to declare martial law in every 
city from Richmond to New Orleans ; to surround every 
State-house with soldiers ; and to dictate the choice of 
rulers at the point of the bayonet. Such extreme meas- 
ures were not resorted to (except perhaps in one instance, 
by Sheridan at New Orleans) ; yet during the whole of 
General Grant's eight years of power, there was in the 
South what amounted to a military occupation, with all 
the pressure that it brings to bear on legislation. But 
so utter was the failure of this policy of coercion, that 
scarcely had Mr. Hayes been inaugurated when, under the 
advice of his distinguished Secretary of State, ]Mr. Evarts, 
it was abandoned as absolutely beyond the power of the 
National Government. 

"Ah, then," say some, " there is no hope for the eman- 
cipated slaves — emancipated only in name ! If the South 
will not do them justice, and the North cannot enforce it, 
they are left to be ground between the upper and nether 



130 THE WHOLE SOUTH BEARS THE ODIUM. 

millstones ! " Not quite so bad as that ! Injustice always 
brings its own punishment. The South is sufifering to-day 
from the lawlessness within her borders. Every " outrage " 
that is sent on the wings of lightning to the North, stirs 
up anew the feeling of indignation, and is a warning to 
Northern people and Northern capital to keep away from 
a land thus smitten by the pestilence. Of course, in this 
sweeping condemnation the good people of the South suf- 
fer with the bad : because it is assumed that these foul 
deeds are upheld, or at least condoned, by public opinion. 
In this there is a degree of injustice. Quiet and peace- 
able men express their horror and disgust at them, but say 
that they are the work of lawless ruffians, such as infest 
every community, and who are not more numerous at the 
South than the class of professional criminals at the North. 
But however few they may be, they seem to be strong 
enough to defy the law : for I have yet to hear of a single 
man punished for his part in these midnight assassina- 
tions! And so long as murderers walk abroad in the 
light of day without fear, the whole community must bear 
the odium. If the Southern States have not the power or 
the will to aiTest the perpetrators of such crimes and bring 
them to justice, let them take the responsibility. They are 
the agents for the punishment of evil-doers, and ought not 
to bear the sword in vain. If they fail in their duty, it is 
their fault, and not ours. If they will not punish violence 
and blood, on them will rest the shame and the disgrace, 
and theirs will be the inevitable punishment : for such 
things cannot be done in a civilized community without 
provoking a terrible retribution in the demoralization 
which always follows unpunished crime. 



CHAPTER XI. 

CAPACITY OF THE NEGRO HIS POSITION IX THE 

NORTH. THE COLOR LINE IN NEW ENGLAND. 

I should liave more hope of the progress of the African 
in the future, if he had made more progress in the past. 
But his history is not encouraging. "What he has done on 
his native continent is all a blank ; but what has he done 
since he was transplanted to America ? — for he has been 
here as long as the white man. The first slaves were 
brought to Jamestown, Va., in 1619, the year before the 
Pilgrims landed on Plymouth Rock. Thus the two races 
began their career together on the Western Continent, 
and yet who can for an instant compare the achievements 
of the one with those of the other ! During the long 
lapse of two hundred and seventy years, the negro race 
has not produced a single great leader. It will not do 
to say that this has been because they were kept down. 
A great race, numbering millions, cannot be kept down. 
Besides, in half the country there was no effort to keep 
them down : for slavery in the North was abolished a 
century ago, and yet the same inferiority exists. I do not 
mention this with any feeling of pride in the superiority 
of the white race ; on the contrary it is with extreme 



132 BLACKS OF THE OLDEN TIME. 

regret that I recognize the backwardness of my colored 
brethren. But I cannot draw pictures of fancy that are 
not borne out by facts. I must see things as they are : or 
at least as they appear to my eyes ; and so seeing, it seems 
to me that the few colored people that are scattered here 
and there in the villages of New England, do not compare 
well with some splendid old types of the race whom I knew 
in my childhood. If the reader will indulge me in the 
episode, I should like to give him a picture or two of pure 
African genius half a century ago. 

Although we of the North know much less of the colored 
people than those who hve at the South (as they are so 
much fewer in numbers here than there), yet we know 
something of them, and I for one have personal reasons to 
remember them with a very strong feeling, as to one of 
that race I owe a debt which I can never repay, since she 
took me almost from the moment that I was bom. "When 
I opened my eyes on this world, almost the first human 
face into which I looked wore a dark skin. As my mother 
was very ill, and it was feared nigh unto death, I was 
taken away from her to the Httle cabin of a poor negro 
woman, who watched over me with a mother's tenderness ; 
and when a few weeks later I was carried to the old 
meeting-house to be baptized, it was in her black arms 
that I was held, while my sainted father sprinkled the 
water on my little head, and gave me the name of an 
English missionary, whose fame was then in all the Chris- 
tian world. 

As this black woman, who was known by the name of 
Mumbet (a contraction, I suppose, for Mammy Betty), 
was no ordinary person, I may briefly tell her history. 
She was born a slave, not far from the Hudson Kiver 
— in what year she never knew — but was bought by 
Col. Ashley of Sheffield, Mass., when she was still such a 



THE COURAGE OF MUMBET. 133 

child that she was carried on the straw in the bottom of a 
sleigh over the mountains to her home in the valley of the 
Housatonic. As she grew up she was noted for her activ- 
ity and courage, and her high spirit, as if the blood of old 
African kings was flowing in her veins. She was ready to 
do any amount of hard work, but would not submit to 
cruelty, and on one occasion, when her mistress in a ftuy 
of passion struck at her sister with a hot shovel, she threw 
herself between them, and received the blow on her arm, 
that left a scar which she carried with her to her grave. 
From that moment she left the house ; neither commands 
nor entreaties could induce her to return, tiH her master 
resorted to the law to gain possession of his slave. Judge 
Sedgwick of Stockbridge defended her, on the ground 
that the Constitution of Massachusetts, then recently 
adopted, had declared that " all men were born fi-ee and 
equal." The court sustained, him, and declared that she 
was free. Thus slavery was abolished in Massachusetts, 
not by a direct act of legislation, but by the decision of 
the courts. In gratitude to her defender and liberator, she 
attached herself to his family, in which she remained for 
many years. Devoting herself to the care of his children 
and his property, she became his defender as he had been 
hers. On one occasion, in Shays' KebeUion (which caused 
so much trouble after the close of the Revolutionary War), 
a party of insurgents came to the house to search for the 
Judge, and went into every room, running their bayonets 
under the beds to find him. But this old black servant, 
who had the heart of a lioness, confronted them at every 
step, following them up-stairs and down-stairs, into garret 
and ceUar, armed with a huge shovel with which she could 
have dealt a tremendous blow. Hearing them speak of 
a favorite horse which they would take with them, she 
flew to the stable, and led it to the road, and then with a 



134 MUMBET's epitaph. 

blow sent it flying till it was out of sight. Thus she out- 
witted them, and sent them away with scorn, remaining 
" solitary and alone," j^roud mistress of the scene. 

But the greatest proof of gratitude to her benefactor 
was her devotion to his children, who, owing to the joro- 
longed illness of their mother, were left almost wholly to 
the care of this old family servant. Better care they could 
not have had. So attached to her did they become, that 
it is safe to say that, next to their mother, they loved this 
faithful creature. 

It was long after the youngest of that family had been 
reared to manhood and womanhood, that I fell into the 
same loving hands, and what she did for them she did for 
me. Thus my acquaintance with the colored race began 
very early, indeed with my very existence. And though 
so long ago, it woidd be ungrateful even at this distance of 
years to disown the obligation. 

In the village burial ground, where are gathered in one 
enclosiu'e the members of that distinguished family, this 
old negro woman is laid by the side of Miss Catherine 
Sedgwick, the celebrated authoress — I presume at her 
request, from a natural feeling that even in death she 
would nestle in her old nurse's arms. On the plain stone 
that mai'ks her grave is the following inscription : 

ELIZABETH FEEEMAN 

known by tho name of 

MUMBET 

died Dec. 28, 1829. 

Her supposed age was 85 years. 

She was born a slave and remained a slave nearly thirty 

years. She could neither read nor write, yet in her own sphere 

she had no superior nor equal. She neither wasted time nor 

property. She never violated a trust, nor failed to perform a 

duty. In every situation of domestic trial she was the most 

efficient helper and the tenderest friend. Good mother, farewell ! 



ANOTHER NOTED CHARACTER. 135 

Was ever a more beautiful tribute paid to womanly 
fidelity and devotion ? As I stand by that grave I think 
what I too owe to that fidelity which "never violated a 
trust, nor failed to perform a duty." As after her death, 
one of the Sedgwicks, paying a tribute to her memory, 
said, "But for her care I should not now probably be 
living to give this testimony," so it may have been in my 
case. When I think of this : that I may have owed my 
life to the care that watched over my helpless infancy, I 
cannot recall the name of that faithful woman without a 
feeling of love and of gratitude, that predisj)oses me to a 
kindly interest in all her unhappy race. 

But the genius of those old Africans did not run wholly 
to the woman side. There was a man in the toAvn who was 
an equally noted character. This was "Agrippa Hull," 
whose Hfe began towards the middle of the last century, 
and who had been in the Revolutionary Army from near 
the beginning to the very end of the war, though not for 
the most pai't as a soldier, but a servant, in which capacity 
he was for four years attached to Kosciusko, whom he 
accompanied in his Southern campaigns. He used to tell 
of bloody scenes that he witnessed, especially at the hard- 
fought battle of Eutaw Springs, where his part was to hold 
the wounded as they were laid upon the operating board 
to have their Hmbs amputated — " the hardest day's work," 
he said, "that he ever did in his life." 

These trying scenes were sometimes varied by those of a 
different character. He used to tell a story that reflected 
on himself, but showed in a pleasant light the good nature 
of Kosciusko. On one occasion the General had been 
invited by a neighboring planter to go with him on a 
hunting excursion, and rode off, expecting not to return 
till the next day. Having the field all to himself, Agrippa 
set out to make the most of it ; and arrayed himself in his 



136 ANECDOTE OF KOSCIUSKO. 

master's uniform, with the military cap on his woolly head 
and sword in hand, wherewith he figured as a foreign offi- 
cer, even to imitating the broken Enghsh of the distin- 
guished Pole — a performance that was greatly to the 
amusement of the soldiers and camp-followers ; until 
suddenly the General, having been overtaken and driven 
back by a thunderstorm, rode up ! Poor Agrippa was 
ready to sink into the earth, expecting severe punishment. 
But to his suriDrise, the General entered into the humor ol 
the thing, and burst into a hearty laugh, adding " This is 
too good to keep," and immediately had his black imitator 
mounted on a horse, and sent through the camp, to the 
tmbounded merriment of the soldiers. This was worse than 
being flogged or put in irons, and Agripj)a used to say that 
he woidd rather have been drummed out of camp to the 
tune of the Rogue's March, than be made such a laughing- 
stock. However, the joke answered one good purpose, as 
this mirthful scene was a rehef to grim-visaged war, and 
made a welcome diversion to the monotonous life of soldiers 
far from home, in the gloom of the Southern forests. 

Of course Agrippa had many stories to tell of the great 
men whom he met at the headquarters of Kosciusko. He 
was very proud when now and then he had the honor of 
holding the bridle for "Washington, as he mounted to ride 
to the field. It was one of the delights of my boyish 
days to go to the little house of this old African, and hear 
him tell of those times of war, with all their scenes so 
strange and stirring. 

He had a great deal of mother wit, which shone out 
most at weddings and other festive occasions, when he 
passed round the cake and wine — for sixty years ago there 
could be no wedding without wune : the parties would 
hardly have thought themselves legally married. As he 
made the circuit of the company, he had some joke for 



THE DEAR OLD SAINTS IN BLACK. 131 

every one ; he even noticed poor little me, for I was then 
a very minute sj)ecimen of humanity, and I counted it a 
mark of distinction, when he patted me on the head, and 
bestowed his approbation in the highly musical lines — 

" Henry Martyn 
Is a gentleman for sartin," 

which I cherish to this day, as the first and only instance 
in which my name has been embalmed in poetry ! 

Though he knew his place perfectly, yet he could hold 
his own with the best of white folks ; and if anybody 
snubbed him for his color, he would not be offended, but 
answer pleasantly that " many a good book was bound in 
black, and that the cover did not matter so much as the 
contents," ending the brief passage of words by asking, 
" Which is the worse : the white black man or the black 
white man — to be black outside or to be black inside ? " 

Agrippa and Mumbet ! what a couple they make ! 
"When I think of these dear old souls, how can I help 
loving them ? Both ripened with age, as religion came to 
give the crowning grace to their characters. Agrippa was 
not, when young, at all reHgiously inclined. The army 
was not a good school of rehgion or of morals, and many 
of those who came back fi'om the wars were more given to 
drinking and cursing than to prayer. But a more quiet 
and peaceful life, with the influences of his New England 
surroundings, made him a new man ; and in the prayer- 
meetings no one was more fervent than AgrijDpa. The 
memory of his past life seemed to be a constant source of 
humiliation, and his penitence showed itself in his confes- 
sions and prayers for forgiveness. Sometimes his language 
was a little too strong, as when he thanked God that 
" white folks were so kind to a poor old black nigger " ; 
and again he used homely phrases, as when he besought 



138 THE MINISTER S WOOING. 

tlie Lord " that every tub miglit stand on its owr bot- 
tom " ; which, however, was not so grotesque as the prayer 
of a noted Baj)tist jDreacher of the county — a white man 
at that — Elder Leland, who (if we may believe the rustic 
chroniclers of the time, and who would doubt them?) once 
l^rayed "that we might all hitch our horses together in 
God's everlasting stable " ! But words are little where 
the heart is found, and quaint as might be the words of 
poor Agripj)a, none who heard him could doubt that his 
j^rayers went up like sweet incense to the throne ; and as 
for Mumbet, though her shin was black, her heart was 
white, and she too, like so many of her race, is now with- 
out fault before the throne of God. 

Of course there were not many such characters any- 
where. But here and there the like of this old nurse 
might be found in the early days of New England. Gen- 
erally they were the retainers of rich families, in which 
they had lived for years, tiU they became an important, 
and almost necessary, part of the establishment. As I 
have taken one instance from my own very limited expe- 
rience, I will venture to add another from fiction, inasmuch 
as the character is drawn from real life. Many of my 
readers are familiar with "The Minister's Wooing," by 
IVIrs. Stowe, the scene of which is laid in Newport : that, 
before the Revolution and some years after, was the chief 
Northern port for the imj^ortation of slaves from Africa ; 
and here were found in the godly families of Puritan 
New England, servants that had been born on the other 
side of the ocean, on the dark slave coast ; some of whom, 
in disproof of the common idea that native Africans are 
all of a low type of humanity, possessed great natural 
intelligence ; and though, like Mumbet, they " could 
neither read nor write," showed such streng-th of char- 
acter that they became the stay and staff of their house- 



CANDACE " AND THE " CATECHIZE/' 139 

holds, and were "in every situation of domestic trial the 
most efficient helpers and the tenderest friends." Such 
an one was " Candace," * who proved herself in her new 
sphere a true " Queen of Ethiopia." The fii'st picture we 
have of her, presents her as " a powerfully built, majestic 
black woman, corpulent, heavy, with a swinging majesty 
of motion, like that of a ship in a ground swell. Her 
shining black skin and glistening white teeth were indica- 
tions of perfect physical vigor which had never known a 
day's sickness : and her turban, of broad red and yellow 
bandanna stripes, had a warm tropical glow." 

This robust exterior was the fit embodiment of a mind 
of great native independence, which did not hesitate even 
to wrestle with the hard theological problems of the day. 
As she was under the ministry of old Dr. Samuel Hopkins, 
the great theologian, she was put duly through the Cate- 
chism, or " Catechize," as she called it, in which there were 
some things hard to be understood, and some which she 
flatly rejected, as, for instance, being held responsible for 
Adam's sin, to which she said : 

•' I didn't do dat ar', for one, I knows. I's got good mem'ry — 
allers knows what I does — nebber did eat dat ar' apple — nebber 
eat a bit ob him. Don't tell me ! " 

It was of no use to tell her of all the explanations of this 
redoubtable passage — of potential presence, and representative 
presence, and representative identity, and federal headship. She 
met all with the dogged 

"Nebber did it, I knows; should 'ave 'membered, if I had. 
Don't tell me ! " 

And even in the catechizing class of the Doctor himself, if 
this answer came to her, she sat black and frowning in stony 
silence even in his reverend presence. 

* The original of this remarkable character, I am told, was an 
old servant in the family of Dr. Lyman Beecher, when he lived 
in Litchfield, Conn. 



140 A REMARKABLE CONVERSION. 

From this error she was reclaimed by a personal 
influence -whicli lias been known to change other than 
dark-skinned unbelievers. It was a mysterious conversion, 
which came in this way : 

Candace was often reminded that the Doctor believed the 
Catechism, and that she was differing from a great and good 
man ; but the argument made no manner of impression on her, 
till one day, a far-off cousin of hers, whose condition under a 
hard master had often moved her compassion, came in overjoyed 
to recount to her how, owing to Dr. Hopkins's exertions, he had 
gained his freedom. The Doctor himself had in person gone 
from house to house, raising the sum for his redemption; and 
when more yet was wanting, supplied it by paying half his last 
quarter's limited salary. 

" He do dat ar' ? " said Candace, dropping the fork wherewith 
she was spearing doughnuts. "Den I'm gwine to b'liebe ebery 
word he does ! " 

And accordingly, at the next catechizing, the Doctor's aston_ 
ishment was great when Candace pressed up to him, exclaiming^ 

"De Lord bress you. Doctor, for opening the prison for dem 
dat is bound ! I b'liebes in you now, Doctor. I's gwine to b'liebe 
ebery word you say. I'll say de Catechize now — fix it any way 
you like. I did eat dat ar' apple — I eat de whole tree, an' swal- 
lowed ebery bit ob it, if you say so." 

If those who read this with a smile infer from it that 
the faith of such a woman was a mere assent to whatever 
she was told, they would be greatly mistaken. Religion 
was the very core of her being, but it was a religion which 
had an African type. It did not come through the intel- 
lect, by any form of reasoning, but through the heart, and 
was hence far more powerful than any conversion worked 
out through a process of the understanding, as it enabled 
this poor black woman to be a minister of consolation, 
when the great divine, to whom she looked up with awe, 
would have driven a poor, unhappy soul to despair. 



THE SHIPWRECKED SON. I4l 

The crisis came in the family of Squire Marvin, in 
wliich Candace lived, when the report came that a son who 
had run away and gone to sea, had been lost. Far away 
on the other side of the world, the ship had gone down 
with all on board. The terrible tidings threw the poor 
mother into an agony of despair, which was not reheved at 
all, but rather intensified, by her religious belief, for it 
compelled her to think that her son had not only lost 
his life, but his soul ! The cold, hard creed of the day 
made light of human suffering. Human beings were but 
" worms of the dust," mere animalculse, cast into the great 
crushing machine of the Almighty decrees, to be ground 
to powder and blown to the winds. "What mattered it? 
Though this " machine " crushed man to atoms ; though 
it broke every bone in his body ; though his flesh was torn 
and bleeding, and his very soul doomed and damned ; yet 
the mild-eyed preacher looked on with serene complacency, 
believing that it was all for the glory of God, in compari- 
son with which the happiness of the whole human race was 
not of the slightest consequence. 

This might be orthodox divinity, but it was terrible for 
a mother in agony for her son. What comfort could she 
find in a great machine, rolling on piteously, crushing 
human hearts and hopes? Under this strain the poor 
woman was driven almost to insanity. Her husband, well 
meaning (but awkward and clumsy, as men are apt to be 
in such circumstances), came into the room, and tried to 
take her in his arms ; but she pushed him away, with the 
piercing shriek, " Leave me alone ! I am a lost spirit ! " 
What followed can only be told by the writer, whose pow- 
erful pen alone is adequate to describe the scene : 

At this moment, Candace, who had been anxiously listening 
at the door for an liour past, suddenly burst into the room. 

"Lor' bress ye, Squire Marvyn, we won't hab her goin' on dis 



142 THE OLD BLACK AUNTY. 

yer way," she said. " Do talk gospel to her, can't ye ? — ef you 
can't, I wiU. 

" Come, ye poor little lamb," she said, walking straight up to 
Mrs. Marvyn, " come to old Candace ! " — and with that she gath- 
ered the pale form to her bosom, and sat down and began rocking 
her, as if she had been a babe. " Honey, darlin', ye a'n't right — 
dar's a drefful mistake somewhar," she said. " Why, de Lord 
a'n't like what ye tink — He loves ye, honey ! Why, jes' feel how 1 
loves ye — poor ole black Candace— an' I a'n't better'n Him as 
made me ! Who was it wore de crown o' thorns, lamb ? — who 
was it sweat great drops o' blood ? — who was it said ' Father, 
forgive dem ' ? Say, honey ! — wasn't it de Lord dat made ye ? — 
Dar, dar, now ye'r' cryin' ! — cry away and ease yer poor little 
heart ! He died for Mass'r Jim— loved him and died for him — jes' 
give up His sweet, precious body and soul for him on de Cross ! 
Laws, jes' leave him in Jesus' hands ! Why, honey, dar's de very 
print o' de nails in His hands now ! " 

The flood-gates were rent ; and healing sobs and tears shook 
the frail form, as a faded lily shakes under the soft rains of 
Summer. All in the room wept together. 

"Now, honey," said Candace, after a pause of some minutes, 
"I knows our Doctor's a mighty good man, an' lamed — an' in 
fair weather I ha'n't no 'bjection to yer hearin' all about dese yer 
great an' mighty tings he's got to say. But, honey, dey won't 
do for you now; sick folks mus'n't hab strong meat; an' times 
like dese, dar jes' a'n't but one ting to come to, an' dat ar's Jesus. 
Jes' come right down to whar poor ole black Candace has to stay 
allers — it's a good place, darlin' ! Look right at Jesus. Tell ye, 
honey, ye can't live no other way now. Don't ye 'member how 
He looked on His mother, when she stood faintin' an' tremblin' 
under de Cross, jes' like you ? He knows all about mothers' 
hearts; Ho won't break yours. It was jes' 'cause He know'd 
we'd come into straits like dis yer, dat He Avent through all dese 
tings — Him, de Lord o' Glory ! Is dis Him you was a-talkin' 
about ? — Him you can't love ? Look at Him, an' see ef you can't. 
Look an' see what He is !— don't ask no questions, an' don't go 
to no reasonin's — jes' look at Him, hangin' dar, so sweet an' 
patient, on de Cross ! All dey could do couldn't stop His lovin' 
'em ; He prayed for em wid all de breath He had. Dar's a God 
you can love, a'n't dar ? Candace loves Him — poor, ole, foolish, 



COMFORTING THE BROKEN-HEARTED MOTHER. 143 

black, wicked Candace — an' she knows He loves her " — and here 
Candace broke down into torrents of weeping. 

They laid the mother, faint and weary, on her bed, and 
beneath the shadow of that suffering Cross came down a healing 
sleep on those weary eyelids. 

" Honey," said Candace, mysteriously, after she had drawn 
Mary out of the room, " don't ye go for to troublin' yer mind wid 
dis yer. I'm clar Mass'r James is one o' de 'lect ; and I'm clar 
dar's consid'able more o' de 'lect dan people tink. "Why, Jesus 
didn't die for nothin' — all dat love a'n't gwine to be wasted. De 
'lect is more'n you or I knows, honey ! Dar's de Spirit — He'll 
give it to 'em ; an' ef Mass'r James is called an' took, depend 
upon it de Lord has got him ready — course He has — so don't ye 
go to layin' on your poor heart what no mortal cretur can live 
under, 'cause, as we's got to live in dis yer world, it's quite clar 
de Lord must ha' fixed it so we cayi, and ef tings was as some 
folks suppose, why, we couldn't live, and dar wouldn't be no 
sense in anyting dat goes on." 

This was the very oil of consolation poured on the 
wounds and bruises of that great agony. The poor black 
woman had done what the learned theologian could not 
do. To the mother in her anguish, this simple Gospel 
was better than the whole Hopkinsian theology. Wliat 
does one care for any " system " when the heart is break- 
ing? It needs only to be brought into the immediate 
presence of Christ the Consoler. It is one great gift of 
the African nature, that it ta^es hold of the Living Person, 
rather than of the abstract idea. It does not come to its 
p6-' ct trust by any logical process, but by the instinct 
of love and gratitude, clinging to the Master as a ship- 
wrecked sailor cHngs to the life-boat in a stormy sea. 
There are times when the tropical fervor of the African 
" fuses " the Gospel so as to take in its vital glow and heat 
when the larger brain of the Anglo-Saxon would remain 
cold and insensible. 

These are pleasant pictures to dwell upon of the colored 



144 THE COLORED PEOPLE IN NEW ENGLAND. 

race in the early days of New England, recalling as they 
do the sweet Arcadian simj)licity of that olden time which 
has passed away. Who of my readers has not known such 
dear old saints in black, who have long since 'gone to 
glory," and who that remembers them can help feeling the 
warmest regard for this simple and affectionate race ? 

From the past we turn to the present, and ask for the 
children of these fathers and mothers. "With such grand 
characters as examples, they would seem to need only to 
have their Umbs unbound by the abolition of slaver}-, to 
start forward in a career of progress that should furnish 
the decisive proof of the capacity of the African race. 
And yet here we are doomed to a great disappointment. 
The black man has had every right that belongs to his 
"white neighbor : not only the natural rights which, accord- 
ing to the Declaration of Indej^endence, belong to every 
human being — the right to life, libeiiy, and the pva*suit of 
happiness — but the right to vote, and to have a part in 
making the laws. He could own his little home, and there 
sit under his own vine and fig-tree, with none to molest 
or make him afraid. His children could go to the same 
common schools, and sit on the same benches, and leai-n 
the same lessons, as white children. 

With such advantages, a race that had natural genius 
ought to have made great progress in a hundred years. 
But where are the men that it should have produced to be 
the leaders of their people? We find not one who has 
taken rank as a man of action or a man of thought : as 
a thinker or a writer ; as artist or poet ; discoverer or 
inventor. The whole race has remained on one dead level 
of mediocrity. 

If any man ever proved himself a friend of the African 
race it was Theodore Parker, who endured all sorts of perse- 
cution and social ostracism, who faced mobs, and was hissed 



HAVE THEY MADE ANY PROGRESS ? 145 

and hooted in public meetings, for his bold cliampionship 
of the rights of the negro race. But rights are one thing, 
and capacity is another. And while he was ready to fight 
for them, he was very despondent as to their capacity for 
rising in the scale of civilization. Indeed he said in so 
many words : " In respect to the power of civilization, the 
African is at the bottom, the American Indian next." In 
1857 he wrote to a friend : " There are inferior races which 
have always borne the same ignoble relation to the rest of 
men, and always will. In two generations what a change 
there wUl be in the condition and character of the Irish in 
New England! But in twenty generations the negroes 
wiU stand just where they are now ; that is, if they have 
not disappeared. In Massachusetts there are no laws now 
to keep the black man from any pursuit, any office that he 
win ; but there has never been a rich negro in New Eng- 
land ; not a man with ten thousand dollars, perhaps none 
with five thousand doUars ; none eminent in anything, 
except the calling of a waiter." 

That was more than thirty years ago. But to-day I 
look about me here in Massachusetts, and I see a few 
colored men ; but what are they doing ? They work in 
the fields ; they hoe corn ; they dig potatoes ; the women 
take in washing. I find colored barbers and white- 
washers, shoe-blacks and chimney-sweeps ; but I do not 
know a single man who has grown to be a merchant or a 
banker ; a judge, or a lawyer ; a member of the legisla- 
ture, or a justice of the peace, or even a selectman of 
the town. In all these respects they remain where they 
were in the days of our fathers. The best friends of the 
colored race — of whom I am one — must confess that it is 
disappointing and discouraging to find that, with all these 
opportunities, they are little removed from where they 
were a hundred years ago. 



146 MORE FAVORABLE TESTIMONY. 

In the above I have spoken only from my own observa- 
tion, and am therefore equally surprised and gratified to 
find that others, with wider opportunities, find more that 
is hopeful and encouraging. Thus IVIi-. A. H. Grimke, a 
colored man, who is a lawyer in Hyde Park, near Boston, 
reports as follows : 

"There are about a dozen colored lawyers in Massachusetts, 
a majority of whom are justices of the peace. There has been a 
colored man in the Legislature every year since 1882. Prior to 
that period, there was a colored member of the Legislature every 
second or third year since the close of the war. Twice during 
these periods, two colored men were members at the same time. 
Every year there are three or four colored members of the 
Republican State Convention, and this year there was a colored 
member of the Democratic State Convention as well. Mr. J. C. 
Chappelle is at present a member of the Republican State Central 
Committee. In my own town of Hyde Park, a colored man is 
Sealer of Weights and Measures. If you will allow a personal 
reference, I am one of the trustees of a public institution (the 
Westborough Insane Hospital), recognized as one of the most 
important in the State, and I am, in addition. Secretary of the 
Board. The expenditures of this hospital are about $100,000 a 
year. Judge RufBn was appointed Judge of the Charlestown 
Municipal Court in 1883, and filled the position with credit to 
himself and the community until his death about three years 
afterwards. Dr. Grant is one of the best dentists in Boston, and 
has a large practice among both races. He is a man of inventive 
skill In his profession. His invention in relation to cleft plates 
is well known here and elsewhere. Besides, he has been for 
years an instructor in the Dental College connected with Harvard 
University — mechanical dentistry being his department. John 
H. Lewis has a merchant tailoring establishment in Washington 
street, Boston, and does the second largest business in New 
England. His transactions annually exceed $100,000 ; he has 
just started a branch store in Providence, R. I. Mr. Joseph Lee 
is owner and proprietor of one of the first-class hotels of the 
East. The richest people of the State are guests at the Wood- 
land Park Hotel, at Auburndale. His business is rapidly increas- 
ing, he has already enlarged the original building, and is about 



NOT TWO RACES, BUT THREE. 147 

to enlarge a second time to meet the increasing demands of the 
public. The property is valued at about $120,000. Beside Mr. 
Lewis above mentioned, there are three colored merchant tailors 
doing a handsome business in Boston. 

" In New Bedford, one of the largest and finest drug stores is 
owned and conducted by a young colored man. In that city the 
colored people are butchers, fruiterers, grocers, master ship- 
builders, etc. Colored young women have taught in the public 
schools of Boston within the past few years, and one, Miss 
Baldwin, has been for some years one of the most popular 
teachers in the public schools of Cambridge." 

This is very gratifying : and it is from no wish to be- 
little its significance, that I suggest, that if it be made a 
test of the capacity of a race, it would be necessary to press 
the inquiry a little farther. Dr. Blyden, who has himself 
no tinge of whiteness, and is very proud of his pure African 
blood, says : " You talk of two races, but there are three ! " 
Such is the division in Jamaica, where they are distin- 
gviished as the whites and the blacks and the browns ; and 
it is said that the browns are much more particular than 
the whites in standing aloof from the blacks. It is to the 
credit of the mulattoes of this country, that they cast in 
theu* lot with the weaker race, but in distinguishing what 
is due to native genius, we must recognize that it is not 
commonly the pure African who comes to the front. Of 
this Mr. Grimke is himseK a proof : for the colored men 
in the North who bear that honored name, have the best 
white blood of South Carolina in their veins. But putting 
every one of these to the account, how far could a dozen 
or two of isolated individuals, go to prove the capacity of 
a whole race, the mass of whom are still far, far behind ? 

"With this experience of slow progress here in our own 
New England, it might be in better taste to be a little 
more guarded and careful in judging our brethren of the 
South, where the failure of the blacks to improve their con- 



us EQUAL LAWS. 

ditiou is ascribed to "unjust laws," to "race- prejudice," 
to the " color-line," and to every other cause except natu- 
ral incapacity or want of application. But can we truly 
say that they impose hardships upon the negro fi'om which 
he is fi'ce at the North ; that he has here rights and oppor- 
tunities that are denied to him there ? Do a few degrees 
of latitude make so great a difference in his position ? 

The first charge in the indictment against the South, is 
"unjust laws " ! But what laws ? Are not the laws affect- 
ing human rights the same in all parts of the country ? 

I am now writing in New England, where the very air 
that blows over the hills is an insi^ii-ation of liberty. 
This grand old State of Massachusetts, in which I was 
born, is my model of a fifee commonwealth, a genuine 
democracy of the highest kind, in which there is an abso- 
lute equality of civil rights, and the nearest approach to 
an equality of conditions. This is a reflection very grati- 
fying to OTU' State pride, all the more as it is in such con- 
trast with what we are accustomed to think of the South, 
but just emerged from the barbarism of slavery. 

But as I am indulging in this comparison, so flattering 
to ourselves and so disparaging to others, I begin to reflect 
that perhaps I have forgotten the changes wrought by the 
war : the great Act of Emancipation, and the amendments 
to the Constitution, which guarantee to all the same civil 
rights, "without distinction of race, color, or previous 
condition of servitude." This is broad enough to cover 
" all sorts and conditions of men." It is the law, not for 
one State alone, but for all ; and hence it follows that the 
status of the negro at the South is precisely the same — 
so far as the law is concerned — as at the North ; he has 
exactly the same rights in South Carolina, that he has here 
in good old Massachusetts ! 

The statement put in this frank, blunt way, is somewhat 



GENERAL ARMSTRONG. 149 

startling : it is wliat Dick Swiveller would call " an unmit- 
igated staggerer," and we do not quite like to admit it, 
and would not, if the words were not so plain that there 
can he but one interpretation. 

But here a friend, seeing my perplexity, comes to my 
relief by saying " Oh, well ! it is not the law of which we 
complain — that is all right enough ; but it is the color line 
that runs through everything at the South — the bitter 
prejudice against the black race — which is so unjust and 
so cruel." 

This gives a new tiu'n to my thoughts, and as I sit brood- 
ing over it, I am hapj^y to see another friend appear, who 
can enlighten me on the subject. It is General Armstrong, 
the head of the famous Hampton School in Virginia. He 
is a typical American ; born in the Sandwich Islands, 
the son of a missionary ; educated at WiUiams College 
in Massachusetts, which he left to enter the army, and 
fought bravely at Gettysbirrg ; and at the end of the war 
was placed in charge of the " contrabands " who were 
gathered in great numbers at Fortress Monroe, out of 
which grew in time an institution for teaching them both 
to read and to work. To this he has given more than 
twenty years of the hardest labor, till under his care it has 
grown to great jDroportions ; sending out from year to 
year hundreds of young men, with an editcation sufficient 
to be able to teach others ; and who, at the same time, 
while supporting themselves by manual labor, have learned 
some useful industry, by which they can afterwards take 
care of themselves. In carrying out this grand design. 
General Armstrong has been a public benefactor. No man 
in this country has done more for the education and eleva- 
tion of the colored race. No man understands better all 
the conditions of the Kace Problem, as it is now being 
worked out in the Southern States. To him therefore I 



150 THE COLOR LINE IN MASSACHUSETTS. 

ttirn eagerly, enlarging with virtuous indignation on the 
" color line " that is kept iip at the South and the race- 
hatred, when I am taken aback at hearing him say that 
" There is a great deal more antagonism between the two 
races here at the North than at the South!" "What?" 
I ask with surprise, almost doubting if I heard him cor- 
rectly, when he repeats the remark as positively as before : 
" I find much more mutual rejDulsion between the whites 
and blacks here in Massachusetts than down in Old 
Virginia." This was another " staggerer," which set me 
thinking, and has kept me thinking ever since. 

Is this statement true ? Can it be that there is a color 
line in Massachusetts ? Alas ! I am afraid there is even 
here, in dear old Stockbridge, which is so near heaven that 
I have heard some of my neighbors say they were not impa- 
tient to make the change. It does not show itself much, 
because we have but few colored people ; if there were 
more, the feeling would be more pronounced. True, they 
have the same rights of person and jiroperty as white 
folks. I never heard of their being subject to any injus- 
tice because of their color. On the contrary, if anybody 
were to attempt to do them wrong, it would be the 
impulse of many, as it would be mine, to befriend them 
just because they are fewer and weaker. Here then is 
absolute equality before the law ; but that does not imply 
social equality, of which (in the sense of social intercourse) 
there is none. 

In making these comparisons, we are able to strike a 
balance between the North and the South as a field for the 
negro ; and now I ask my colored brother if, looking about 
him at the whole situation, he does not agree that, with all 
its drawbacks and disadvantages, he has just as good a 
chance to make a man of himself in Georgia and South 
Carolina, as in Massachusetts or Connecticut ? 



EXCLUSION FROM HOTELS. 151 

True, there are some things which grate harshly, such 
as the exclusion of negroes, even though they may be men 
of education, from places of entertainment — from hotels 
and theatres, and seats in drawing-room cars — a griev- 
ance so great that it has been thought deserving of a 
special enactment for its punishment. The Civil Rights 
bill, of which Charles Sumner was the father, and which 
he left on his death-bed as a sacred charge to his party to 
carry through Congress, made it a law that the blacks 
should have the same rights in hotels and on railroads as 
whites, disregard of which was to be punished by fine and 
imprisonment I As the law was soon declared unconsti- 
tutional by the Supreme Court of the United States, it fell 
to the ground ; but if it had not, it would have been diffi- 
cult or impossible to enforce it. Nor can we of the North 
blame the South for this : for whether the exclusion of col- 
ored people from hotels be right or wrong, just or unjust, 
we cannnot reproach others for doing what we do our- 
selves. So long as negroes are not received at the prin- 
cipal hotels in the North, it would be a piece of pharisaical 
hypocrisy to require that they should be at the South. 
We must not try to enforce in the St. Charles Hotel in 
New Orleans, what cannot be enforced in the Fifth-avenue 
Hotel in New York ! 

Why, even here in New England, we find the same 
race-prejudice. Take our own happy valley. If a colored 
man were to come from the city to spend a few weeks in 
the country, and should apply for rooms at the Stockbridge 
House, would he be received? There might be no objec- 
tion to him personally, but the landlord, though he is one 
of the most obliging of men, would say that the admission 
of a colored man to the same rooms and the same table, 
would give offence to his white guests ; and that, however 
he might wish to do it, he could not. 



152 EXCLUDED FROM DRAWING-ROOM CARS. 

As to equality on railways, there is more ground for 
complaint, as cases are frequently reported in which 
colored men, who are as decent and well-behaved as the 
common run of white passengers, and even ministers of 
the Gospel, are turned out of cars, for which they have 
paid full fare, with a degree of roughness and violence 
which has excited indignation, not only at the North, but 
among the best men at the South. There is a plain rule 
of justice, which ought to be recognized and enforced, \'iz: 
that every man is entitled to what he pays for. If there 
be on the part of the whites an unwillingness to occupy the 
same cars and to sit in the same seats with the blacks, let 
them be separate ; only let equally good cars be provided 
for both, if both pay for them. In Georgia I am told that 
this is now required by law ; but the law, it would seem, 
does not always suffice to protect the blacks fi-om the vio- 
lence of ruffians who invade the cars, and drive them out 
fiom seats for which they have paid, and to which they are 
legally entitled. Here is a case for those who have framed 
a righteous law, to see that it is enforced. A black man's 
money is just as good as a white man's, and if he i)ays the 
same fare, he is entitled to the same accommodation. 

Whatever inequality there may be of rights and privi- 
leges at the South, I certainly do not mean to apologize 
for any wrong or injustice to the colored man. I wish 
simply to show that the color line, of which we hear so 
much, is not peculiar to one section of the country ; that 
it exists at the North as well as at the South ; and that, if 
we wovdd be just, we must recognize the fact, and not 
ascribe what we call race-prejudice to the peculiar perver- 
sity of our Southern brethren. I ask that we judge them 
by the same rule that we adopt for ourselves, and that we 
do not condemn them for the very things of which we are 
guilty. 



WE CANNOT FIGHT AGAINST INSTINCT. 153 

As a basis of comparison, I have taken the highest 
standard. New England is my mother, and my model of 
all that is good. I am proud not only of the fi-eedom, 
but of the equality, that exists among these hills, where 
it matters not if a man be rich or poor, white or black. 
I am willing to give to the black man every right which I 
ask for myself ; but I cannot compel my neighbor to invite 
him to his house ; nor indeed do I feel at liberty myself to 
invite him to a company, in which there are those who 
would be offended by his presence. This would be rude 
to them, and would make all uncomfortable. A gentleman 
must be governed by a scrupulous delicacy, and that 
would dictate that he should not give pain on one side or 
on the other. Social intercourse cannot be regulated by 
law; it must be left to those natural attractions and affini- 
ties which the Almighty has planted in our breasts. That 
the whites should desire to keep to themselves, is not to be 
ascribed to arrogance ; it does not even imply an assump- 
tion of superiority. It is not that one race is above the 
other, but that the two races are different, and that, while 
they may live together in the most friendly relations, each 
will consult its own happiness best by working along its 
own lines. This is a matter of instinct, which is often 
wiser than reason. We cannot fight against instinct, nor 
legislate against it ; if we do, we shall find it stronger than 
our resolutions and our laws. 



CHAPTEK XII. 

THE EXPATRTATION" OF A WHOLE KACE. 

The sbadow of the African still darkens the South, 
casting over it a gloom, by which some are so burdened 
and oppressed with the foreboding of what may come 
hereafter, that they mildly propose, as the only remedy 
for the danger, to remove the race altogether. If the 
negro is left to multiply in the land, he may become too 
powerful, and so let us get rid of him while we may by his 
wholesale expatriation. Thus Senator Hampton of South 
Carolina, speaking of a movement of the negroes from 
some of the cotton States, says : "An extensive exodus 
would be an inconvenience to the South, but not an injuiy. 
"We would gladly see the colored people move elsewhere, 
and we should be willing to suffer any reduction of repre- 
sentation that might result from their departure. It would 
dej)rive us of much of our labor, and make it a little harder 
for the present generation ; but it would be the salvation 
of the future. I do not wish any harm to the negroes, but 
I would sacrifice whatever votes we get in the Electoral 
College or in Congress by reason of them, if they would 
go off by themselves. I would gladly vote to appropriate 
$50,000,000 for the purchase of Cuba, or some other place 
for them to settle in." 



WHERE SHALL THE NEGRO GO ? 15& 

This is certainly very generous — to offer a -whole race, 
which it is proj^osed to exile, all the world in which to 
choose a home, except the country in which they were 
born, and the only country that they know under the sun ! 
But by what right do we make this startling proposal? 
Has the Creator given it to us thus to dispose of different 
portions of the earth ? God has formed the world for the 
habitation of men — not of one race only, but of all the 
tribes and kindreds of mankind. Has He given to the 
Anglo-Saxon an exclusive right to lord it over this conti- 
nent, and to expel all races but his own ? First, to drive 
out the Indian from his forests and his hunting-grounds; 
and then, after having imported the African to be a slave, 
and kept him in bondage for eight generations, to turn 
him adi'ift, to seek a home in the West Indies, or in the 
pestilential swamps of South America ? The descendants 
of the Africans who were landed at Jamestown, Virginia, 
in 1619, are as pure " native Americans " as the proud de- 
scendants of the Huguenots, who settled in South Cai'olina. 
On what ground can the latter invite the former to depart, 
and leave the continent to them alone ? 

But as this suggestion of " getting rid " of the black 
race is made in other quarters, and in all seriousness, it is 
worth considering what it implies. 

You who wovJd expatriate the negro, tell us. Where 
shall he go? Two generations since, it was the belief of 
many good peoj^le that the Africans had been brought to 
America to be Christianized, and were now to be returned 
to their native land, to be the heralds of the Gospel over 
the Dark Continent. The idea had been conceived in the 
last century by Dr. Samuel Hopkins, that brave old cham- 
pion of the faith and of human liberty. In his parish at 
Newport (which might have been called Slave-port, from 
the number of cargoes of slaves that were landed there 



156 COLONIZATION IN AFRICA. 

from Africa), his soul was kindled with indignation ; and 
he longed to see the day when these unhappy cliildren of 
an oppressed race should be sent back to the land from 
which they had been torn. But he did not live to see his 
hoj^e fulfilled. After his death, the j)roject was revived by 
some of the best men in the country, such as Bishop 
Meade and Charles F. Mercer of Virginia, and Rev. Dr. 
Finley of New Jersey; and in 1816 a Society was organ- 
ized, with the great name of Washington (Bushrod Wash- 
ington) as its President. A deputation was sent to Africa 
to select a ^ite for a colony, and chose the best on the 
western coast, with five or six hundred miles on the 
Atlantic, and extending three hundred miles into the 
interior. Instead of being all swamps and jungle, it was a 
high, rolling country, with hills covered with forests, and 
a number of navigable streams. In 1820 eighty-six colo- 
nists were sent out, and in the coiirse of a few years it 
had transported ten thousand free colored people. In 
1847 it was organized as an independent Rej)ublic, to 
which was fitly given the name of Liberia. Then, as for 
many years before and after, it bore the illustrious name 
of Henry Clay as its President. It seemed a most benign 
and happy project; and when, now and then, a ship sailed 
away, bearing a reinforcement to the colony, devout men 
and women gathered on her deck, and sang hymns, and 
offered prayers and thanksgivings, in blissful hope that the 
day of Africa's redemption was drawing nigh. But since 
the foundation of the colony, seventy years have passed, 
and the day does not seem to be much neai-er than before. 
Since the war the Colonization Society has faded from 
the public notice so entirely that many will be surjDrised 
to learn that it is still in existence. But the visitor at 
Washington, as ho rides down Pennsylvania avenue, will 
see its sign still on the corner, where it has hung so long; 



THE REPUBLIC OF LIBERIA. 15T 

and once or twice a year (perhaps oftener) it sends a small 
contingent to the shores of Africa. Nor is the work that 
it has done to be despised: for it is no small thing to plant 
a colony which, in spite of all obstacles, still lives, and has 
grown strong; which has a good government, with schools 
and churches, with eighteen or twenty thousand people 
born in America, or their descendants, forming the nucleus 
of a civilized and Christian State; and that has a milHon of 
natives under its beneficent rule. This is a great deal to 
be accomplished within three-score years and ten — the 
life-time of a man — and is worth all that it cost. 

As such, Liberia will remain a beacon-light on the 
Afi'ican coast, to attract all who may wish to go. But 
their going should be a matter of perfect liberty. Whoso 
is " called," either by Providence or his own inward yearn- 
ing for the land of his fathers, let him go. But let no 
man be compelled to choose what seems to him exile from 
the land of his birth. If of his own unfettered will he 
elects to go, let him depart with the blessing of all Chris- 
tian people upon him, assured that on the other side of the 
ocean he will find a home and a welcome, and may become 
a missionary of civilization and Christianity to a continent. 
To those who thus go as volunteers, the change may be a 
good one, and their coming may be a valuable accession 
to the colony ; but as reducing the colored population in 
this country, the effect would be infinitesimal. 

To anticipate anything beyond this limited and volun- 
tary emigration, seems to me quite visionary. I know 
that a high authority, a man of great intelligence and 
learning. Dr. Edward W. Blyden (a full-blooded African, 
though born in the West Indies), who has spent the 
greater part of his life in Liberia, argues that colonization 
on the widest scale is the true, and indeed the only, exit 
for the negro race. He says in so many words that the 



158 A WHOLE RACE CANNOT CROSS THE SEA. 

only hope of tlie African is in Africa ; that so long as he 
remains in America, he must be an inferior; but that once 
transferred across the sea, "the whole boundless conti- 
nent" is his, in which to build cities and found empires. 
He does not tell us how it has happened that the African 
race has held the continent, to the exclusion of all other 
races, for hundreds and thousand of years, having had at 
one time the benefit of the highest civilization, when 
Northern Africa was a part of the Roman Empire; but 
that, instead of building cities and founding empires, it 
has sunk to the lowest degree of barbarism. 

The project of a general emigration to Africa as a final 
settlement of the Race Question, may therefore be dis- 
missed as a beautiful dream — beautiful indeed, but none 
the less a dream. The undertaking is beyond the power 
of all the Southern States combined, even supported by 
the resources of the National Government. The thing is 
physically impossible. There are not ships enough in all 
the navies and all the commerce of the world, to transport 
seven millions of human beings — men, women, and chil- 
dren — across the Atlantic. What heavj'-laden fleets would 
need to accompany this Grand Ai'mada, to feed the poor 
creatures on their miserable voyage! And then, when 
landed, what would you do with them? You could not 
leave them to perish. You must prepare the way for 
them by subduing the forests, and clearing the jungle 
along the coast for hundreds of miles ; you must plant 
millions of acres, and build towns and cities for human 
habitation ; while the Afi'ican fever — a destroyer more ter- 
rible than all the lions on the continent — would lay the 
miserable exiles by tens of thousands in their graves. I 
do believe that one half of all the emigrants would die the 
first year, and the other half the next. This would be a 
settlement of the negro question by universal destruction. 



COLONIZATION AT HOME. 159 

But tlie idea of colonization is not one conceived only 
in the brains of the old masters, eager to expel the poor 
people whom they can no longer control — a decree of 
banishment to be passed by the State Legislatures or the 
National Government, and carried out by the arm of the 
law, no matter what degree of suffering it may inflict ; it 
is a favorite idea with many of the colored people them- 
selves, who, feeling that they have no home here, that they 
must always be an inferior race, cast their eyes round the 
horizon, to see if they can find some place of refuge. 
Some colonies have already been sent to Kansas, where 
they are reported as doing fairly well ; others seek homes 
farther south, in the less occupied parts of Texas, or it 
may be even across the border in Mexico. 

To such movements it seems to me the whites should 
interpose no obstacle, but rather aid those to whom they 
have stood in such close relations, and bid them fareweU 
in the sincere hope that they may find happiness in the 
new homes to which they are bound. But here, as in the 
emigration to Africa, the few that go make no perceptible 
reduction of the mass that remain. The emigrants go in 
small companies, by dozens or by scores, that are not 
missed by those that are left behind. What impression 
can these little detachments make upon a population that 
is increasing at the rate of over a hundred thousand a 
year? 

But Senator Hampton suggests a nearer home for the 
exiled race. Let us buy Cuba, which is but a few hours' 
sail from our coast, and transport them there, where they 
coidd have the island all to themselves, and govern their 
own country in their own way. This looks more feasible, 
but the result, I believe, would show that the black race 
cannot stand alone — separate from the help and guidance 
of the more intelligent white race. In the "West Lidies 



160 A PURE AFRICAN STATE. 

there has been already an experiment of a government by 
blacks, the history of which is "svritten in blood. Do we 
desire to turn the fair island of Cuba into another St. 
Domingo ? 

But some think these dangers might be guarded against, 
and the experiment made a success, if the emigrant popu- 
lation were to retain a political connection with us, not 
as a colony under the protection of the United States, 
but as an integral part of the Union. One of the most 
distinguished men of Georgia, who has given a great deal 
of attention to this subject, recently explained to me in 
some detail the plan which he would like to see brought 
forward in Congress, and adopted by the Government. 
It was briefly this : that we should purchase from Mexico 
one or two of its outlying provinces, covering a territory 
as large as Texas, to which should be removed the negro 
population of the Soiithern States, where they should be 
a people by themselves, their own masters in every re- 
spect, forming a pure African State, with no intermixture 
of alien blood. This would relieve the feeling of humilia- 
tion from which their young men of high spirit now su£fer : 
for they would have open to them all the honors and dig- 
nities of the State ; they could be governors and judges 
and legislators. The State would be as "sovereign and 
independent " as Georgia and Virginia. As such, it would 
send its representatives to Congress, where they would be 
no longer looked upon with a race-jealousy. On the con- 
trary, a black senator would be a picturesque object, as 
much as if he were a Moor from Afi'ica, and would be 
looked upon with the same admiring curiosity that we 
now bestow upon a Chinese or Japanese ambassador. 

So reasoned this delightful Southerner. The picture 
which he drew was so dazzling that I did not wonder that 
it blinded him to all the difficulties in the way, which 



A COLONY IN CENTRAL AMERICA. 161 

melted before his ardent imagination like mists before the 
rising sun. If Mexico would not sell us a portion of her 
territory, there was land enough to be had for the asking, 
or for purchase, and the price was nothing to a coiintry 
rich as ours. In what is known as Central America there 
are two States, Honduras and Nicaragua, either of which 
is larger than the island of Cuba, the former having 50,000 
square miles, and the latter 58,000 — both magnificently sit- 
uated between the two oceans, with vast coast-lines open- 
ing on the Atlantic and the Pacific ; while Guatemala has 
44,000 square miles, and yet (although its population is 
reckoned at nearly two millions), it has but 20,000 whites. 
The country, in fact, is said virtually to belong to a few 
Spanish families, that perhaps might be induced to part 
with their possessions for a reasonable consideration. 
Even little Costa Rica, with but 21,500 square miles, is 
a good deal larger than Massachusetts, Connecticut, and 
Rhode Island put together. Here then are four States, 
all in that tropical climate which is suited to the negro. 
May not one of them be finally the Promised Land for the 
Lost Tribes of our African Israel ? 

This is indeed a brilliant scheme, but which, I think, 
would encounter both a material and moral objection that 
would be fatal. If it is to be carried out by the General 
Government, it must have the support of the North, whose 
people form a very large majority of the whole population 
of the country. Now the Northerners are a careful and a 
prudent race, and before entering into such an enterprise, 
would scrutinize it very carefully, and would soon conclude 
that it would not only cost more than a dozen Panama 
Canals, but that it would be very doubtful in its results. 
But, behind and above all, is the moral sentiment of the 
North, that would never consent that the colored popula- 
tion should be removed in any other way than by their 



163 EXPATRIATION A BLOW TO THE SOUTH. 

own free clioice. Here, as in tlie case of whoever wislies 
to seek a home in Liberia, the countr j would say : If you 
desire to go out from among us, go, and the blessing of 
Him who is the God of all the races of men, go with you ! 
But you shall go as a freeman, as an emigrant, and not as 
an exile ! 

Suppose then, before this gen-eral deportation is begun, 
it should be left to the negroes themselves to vote upon it, 
what do our Southern friends think their choice would be ? 
They are not a venturesome and enterprising race, ready, 
like the sea-rovers of the North, to start off on great expe- 
ditions, and sail away to plant colonies on distant shores ; 
and however they might listen with wonder to the fasci- 
nating story of the palm-groves and the free-and-easy life 
to which they were to be transported, when it came to the 
point of breaking away, they would draw back and linger 
about the old plantations, rather than seek new homes in 
some unknown " land of the sun." 

If the sanguine projectors of these grand schemes of 
expatriating a whole race, are siurprised and disappointed 
that the negroes do not eagerly accept the offer, they may 
yet find their disappointment a blessing : for this removal 
of the blacks would be the greatest possible calamity to 
the South, as it would take away at a blow what is the 
first necessity in every civilized country : a vast laboring 
population — a race especially fitted to the climate and ac- 
customed to the labor. Take the African from the rice 
and the cotton fields, and the sugar plantations, and in 
spite of the golden visions of Mr. Wade Hampton, a large 
part of Georgia and Mississippi and Louisiana would re- 
lajDse into a howling wilderness. Thus expatriation would 
be, not a blessing, but an unspeakable curse — a curse to 
both races, as the banishment of one would be the ruin of 
the other. Nor is there any need to resort to a measure 



THE NEGRO IS HERE TO STAY. 163 

SO extreme and so cruel. The two races are necessary to 
each other, and any policy which would divide them and 
separate them, would entail untold misery on succeeding 
generations; and therefore I protest against aU schemes 
of banishing the negroes from the soil on which they were 
born. A race that has been here for two hundred and 
seventy years, and that has multiplied till it has become 
like the stars of heaven for multitude, is not to be driven 
off the continent into the sea, or beyond it, at the bidding 
of any power. When I hear the politician casting words 
of contempt and of ignominy upon the negro, and pre- 
dicting that he will " die out," and perish from off the 
New World in which he has lived so long, I see a dusky 
figure rising up in the gloom of the Southern forests, and 
hear the voice of one who believes in his race, and in 
Almighty God as its Protector, making answer, " I shall 
not die, but live, and declare the works of the Lord ! " 

Is it not time to drop these visionary projects, and to 
recognize the hard fact, however unpleasant it may be, 
that the negro is here, and here to stay? He has as good 
a right to be here as we have. He was born on this side 
of the Atlantic. He knows no more of Afi-ica than we do, 
nor half as much. The only country he knows under the 
broad canopy of heaven, is America. Has he not a right 
to say, " Here my fathers have lived for many generations ; 
here was I born ; here were my children born ; and here, 
by God's help, wiU we live, and here wiU we die " ? 

Recognizing this fact as one that cannot be changed by 
any amount of agitation or of legislation, the only ques- 
tion is, Whether the two races, white and black, can live 
side by side without constant collision ? Some wUl tell us 
that it is simply impossible ; that the juxtaposition of two 
races, ahen to each other in nature as in blood, yet living 
on the same soil and having the same political rights. 



164 CANNOT THE TWO RACES LIVE TOGETHER ? 

means perpetual -vrar — a war like tbat between the Span- 
iard and tbe Moor, whicli lasted for eight hundi-ed years, to 
end, like that, only in the extermination of the one or the 
other. Is this the inevitable doom of the black race ? Or 
is it possible that the two races should Hve through all the 
coming generations, not only the closest of neighbors, but 
the best of friends? This is the Eace Problem which con- 
fronts us to-day — the most difficult and perplexing prob- 
lem that ever stood across the ascending path of a great 
nation. We are making a tremendous experiment, and 
one, some tell us, foredoomed to failure. If so, then civil- 
ization is a failure ; and, what is worse, Christianity is a 
failure. But we shall not fail. Our faith is in God and 
in the American people. He who guided our fathers in 
all the crises of their history, will not forget us in this 
supreme moment of anxiety and of fear. He wiU still 
lead us on through this last great danger, to the end 
that oau' government may be " settled uj)on the best and 
surest foundations ; that peace and happiness, truth and 
justice, rehgion and piety, may be established among us 
for all generations." 



CHAPTER XTEL 

LOOKING FORWARD. 

From the dark background of a gloomy past, it is a 
relief to turn our eyes towards a brighter future. It is a 
quarter of a century since the negro received his freedom. 
Since then he has been, as it were, on trial, to prove 
whether he was worthy of the liberty that was given him, 
or whether it were better that he had been kept in slavery. 
And with aU his imperfections, I think he has stood the 
test pretty well. He has proved himself, not only a good 
hand at his old business of the shovel and the hoe, but has 
shown a good deal of " grit " and " staying power." He 
has not died out, as some of his kind friends were sure 
that he would do as soon as he was left to himself ; but, 
on the contrary, his descendants have multiplied hke the 
children of Israel in the land of Egypt. Nor has he shown 
himself the indolent creature that we were told he would 
be as soon as the pressure of servitude was taken off. 
True, there are numbers of idle, shiftless, woi-thless negroes, 
lying about the streets of every city and large town in the 
South, just as there are numbers of idle, shiftless, and 
worthless white men in our Northern cities, that could be 
spared without a loss to civilization. Those who prophesied 



166 THE NEGRO INDUSTRIOUS. 

his helpless and hopeless indolence as soon as he was set 
free, forgot that he would come under another pressure 
the moment that he had to take care of himself. In the 
old days, when " Master " provided everj^ihing, he could 
lie about, and feign sickness, and shu'k his day's task ; but 
when it came to this, that " if he did not work, neither 
should he eat," he began to stir himself, and has worked 
to some purpose, in proof of which it is necessary to give 
but one single fact : that in Georgia the negroes are taxed 
on property to the amount of ten millions of dollars! As 
the property subject to taxation is generally estimated at 
little more than half its real value, this would indicate that 
the negroes of one Southern State are to-day worth twenty 
millions of dollars ! This does not look like idleness and 
waste in the years that they have been fi-ee. 

It is not to be supposed that all these well-to-do blacks 
are mere laborers on the old plantations. Many of them 
are mechanics, wherein they have an advantage over their 
brethren at the North. In New York city there are few 
colored mechanics, and these work in a very small way. 
General Armstrong recently said to me : " Northern com- 
petition is harder on the negro than Southern prejudice." 
Colored men here complain bitterly of the way in which 
they are driven out of aU the better class of trades. They 
say that not one of them can find emj)loyment in any store 
or shop ; nor be an apprentice to learn a trade ; indeed 
that they cannot do anything excej^t the most menial labor. 
The cases recently given us by Mr. Grimke would show 
that it is somewhat better in New England ; yet even 
The Congregationalist of Boston says : 

" The difficulties in the way of just treatment of the negro 
are not confined to the South. In some respects he is not so 
weU off in the Northern States. It is affirmed that even in 
Boston hardly a single colored boy can bo found learning a trade, 



COLORED SCHOOLS IN THE SOUTH. IGT 

because, except hotel-waiting, boot-blacking, and barbering, the 
trades are all closed against him. No negroes, with a single 
exception, were observed in the ranks of the processions repre- 
senting the different trades on Labor Day. In the South they 
are shut out of hotels, and compelled to ride in inferior railway- 
cars ; but they can learn trades without hindrance. Such a state 
of things is not a credit to Northern civilization." 

In Georgia the negroes find no sucli barriers in theii" 
way. They can enter any trade, and, if they become 
sldlled mechanics, can find plenty to do. Their old mas- 
ters, instead of a feeling of resentment at their being free, 
seem to like to have them about, and encourage them 
in every way. This is greatly to their honor. When we 
think how many of these old masters were themselves 
impoverished, and some of them literally beggared, by the 
war, it shows a generous disposition that they take so 
kindly to the new situation ; and it may be in part as- 
cribed to their friendly counsel, as well as to the industry 
of the blacks, that so many of the latter have got along so 
well, and been able to make themselves comfortable and 
independent. 

But the brightest light on the Southern horizon, is the 
education of the colored race. Before the war this was 
unknown. A few house-servants might be taught to read 
and wi'ite, to make them more useful in the business of 
their masters ; but anything like a general education of 
the blacks, would have been viewed with alarm. Indeed a 
school for teaching them, however small, even if it were 
on a plantation, and conducted by members of the plant- 
er's own family, was an object of suspicion. A servile 
race must not be allowed to become intelligent. Ideas 
are explosive. For this reason schools for the blacks were 
forbidden by law. But when the war was over, this was 
one of the first things that engaged the attention of phil- 
anthropic people at the North ; and teachers were sent 



168 A MAGNIFICENT SCHOOL SYSTEM. 

South, who, at the cost of social ostracism in the commu- 
nities into which they went, began the work of negro 
education. 

But these schools, few and scattered as they were, 
could make but little impression on the mass of the 
colored population. All together, they could reach but a 
fraction of the children. It was reserved for the South 
itself to do the work on a much grander scale. Governor 
Gordon of Georgia, in a recent address, says: "When her 
people secured possession of the State government, they 
found about six thousand colored pupils in the public 
schools, and her school exchequer bankrupt. To-day, 
instead of six thousand, we have over one hundred and 
sixty thousand colored pupils in the public schools, with 
the exchequer expanding and the schools multiplying year 
by year ! " If it be said that the negroes themselves are 
taxed for these schools, I answer : " Yes, they pay one- 
thirtieth of the expense ; the other twenty-nine-thirtieths 
are paid by the whites ! " 

Nor is Georgia alone in this work. The same spirit 
is reported in South Carolina and Tennessee, and other 
of the more thickly-settled States ; so that in all the 
South there are no less than sixteen thousand colored 
schools! Of course the burden of supporting all these 
is enormous, especially upon States that are not rich. It 
is to the honor of the North that she has claimed a share 
in this truly national work. There is the Peabody Fund, 
and the Slater Fund, and the Hand Fund, besides hun- 
dreds of thousands of dollars that are given every year. 
But after all is said and done, the greater part of the 
burden has to be borne by the South, and to her belongs 
the honor, which no Northerner should be so base as to 
try to take from her. Let her have the fuU glory of this 
magnificent work, done in such a magnificent way. 



EVERY RIGHT BUT THE VOTE ! 169 

After such an exhibition of kindness and generosity, it 
would seem as if the South was ready to do everything for 
the negro — to give him every right, every opportunity, and 
every privilege possessed by the whites. Yes ! yes 1 every 
right but one — that of the ballot ! Even to this they have 
no objection when he is in a hopeless minority, so that his 
vote " can do no harm." But the moment he is in the 
majority, he becomes dangerous. Now there are four 
Southern States — South Carolina, Alabama, Mississippi, 
and Louisiana — in which he outnumbers the whites, so 
that a combination of the black voters would give them 
the election of the Governor and Legislature, and thus 
the control of the State. Here in these States any attempt 
on their part to exercise the right of suffrage on a large 
scale, and thus to gain political power, is to be resisted to 
the last extremity. 

My readers do not need to be told that I have never 
been in favor of universal suffrage among whites or 
blacks — among the ignorant creatures who arrive here by 
every ship from Europe, or the equally ignorant negroes 
of the South ; and I still adhere to that opinion, even 
though the country has, in both cases, decided otherwise. 
A man who is defeated always thinks he is right : he may 
at least be allowed that small privilege, when those who 
differ from him have won their case. It is too late to 
argue the matter now. Good or bad, wise or unwise, the 
thing is done, and cannot be undone. If a ship is over- 
taken by a storm in the middle of the ocean, and in dan- 
ger of going to the bottom, none but cowards would sit 
down in the cabin, and lament the foUy of setting out on 
the voyage. The duty is to save the ship ! 

So in the present case. Everybody now sees that the 
giving of the vote to raw immigrants, who could not even 
speak our language, was a stupendous folly ; but what are 



no MUST BE TAKEN FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE. 

we going to do about it ? Mr. McCullocli tliinks Congress 
should pass a law requiring tliem to reside here a number 
of years before being natui-alized and allowed to vote. 
That would be indeed a wise precaution, but it is easier 
said than done. It will not be easy to pass such a law, for 
the op230sition will come fi'om the places where such 
restriction is most needed, viz: in the great cities, where 
demagogues find this ignorant mass of foreign voters the 
very material which they wish to use. 

Nor is there any more hope that the vote will be taken 
from the blacks at the South, than from the newly import- 
ed Irish at the North. I know that some cling to such an 
idea, and measures have been proposed to this end. 
There is indeed one way in which it could be done, 
that would be fair and just to aU parties, by which our 
Southern fi'iends could be immediately disembarrassed of 
the negro vote, viz : by passing a law to restrict the ballot 
to those who can read and write, and who have some 
small amount of property. This would not be universal 
suffrage, but it would be impartial suffrage, which would 
be far better. But this change is opposed by the politi- 
cians, on the ground that it would exclude thousands of 
the whites who are as ignorant as the blacks ! So there is 
no hope of relief from that source. Universal suffrage is 
the law, and such it will remain, and we have got to take it, 
for better, for worse. We are in for it, and must make the 
best of it. 

This is the situation which the South has to contem- 
plate. Her leading men are old soldiers, trained to mili- 
tary discij)Kne, and they know that the only way to meet 
danger, is to look it squarely in the face. They cannot run 
away from it if they would, nor is that the temper of men 
whose courage has been proved on many a battle-field. 
In the same cool and determined spirit the South should 



WHAT WILL THE SOUTH DO ABOUT IT ? HI 

understand the dimensions of the power that it has to deal 
with, before it enters on a struggle in which it may have 
to measure strength, not only with a subject race, but with 
a whole nation behind it. It would therefore simplify the 
situation, if it would recognize the fact, which it can no 
longer ignore, that the policy of the country in regard to 
the civil lights of the negro is settled, and will not be 
changed. 

The only question that remains is. What is the South 
going to do about it? Will it accept the situation, and 
make the best of it ? Or will it try to nuUify the law by 
fraud, by miscounting of the vote, or by violence and 
intimidation ? I do not like to ask this question, as it is a 
sore point at the South, whose people sometimes think it 
a great impertinence in us at the North to trouble our- 
selves BO much about Southern elections. We beg to 
assiire them that we have no disposition to meddle in what 
is none of our business. We believe in home rule for 
Georgia as well as for New York, and that in the manage- 
ment of her political affairs the South must work out her 
own salvation. At the same time we cannot forget that 
the North and the South are parts of one country ; mem- 
bers of the same body ; and that if one member suffer, all 
the members suffer with it ; and that political demoraliza- 
tion cannot prevail in half a dozen States without poison- 
ing the whole national life. 

I admit that the South has reason to distrust the col- 
ored vote. It has had one experience of negro rule, and 
once was enough. A friend recently told me of an inci- 
dent within his own personal knowledge. It was some 
years since, in a town in Mississippi, where the blacks 
being largely in the majority, swept the board, electing 
none but negroes, save one who was a carpet-bagger — a 
combination that went to work at once to loot the town, 



112 A KICE SCHEME OF PLUNDER. 

beginning operations by imposing a tax of twenty-five per 
cent, "for municipal purposes " ! As tile wliites had been 
so impoverished by the war that they could not pay, the 
next step was to put up their lands and houses to be sold 
for taxes, which the carpet-bagger, being the only man 
who had any money, stood ready to buy ! Here was as 
nice a scheme of plunder as ever was planned, which the 
old masters met in the only way possible : seeing that 
they had fallen into the hands of a gang of thieves, they 
went to the chief brigand, and putting together aU they 
could rake and scrape, bought him off by paying him 
blackmail, giving up a part of the little they had to save 
the rest I 

Such performances shock all our ideas, not only of de- 
cent government, but of civilized society ; and we do not 
wonder that men of sjoirit and independence will not sub- 
mit to what is no better than highway robbery. But this 
was an extreme case, from which it will not do to draw a 
general rule — one that will justify the same " buying off" 
whenever it is needed to carry an election. One of the evil 
consequences of universal negro suffrage, is that it has be- 
gotten such a general demoralization in poHtical matters, 
that buying votes is not only winked at, but done openly, 
without the least scruple ; with no conscience about it, as 
if it involved anything wrong. I cannot get over the im- 
pression made at hearing one of the most intelligent and 
honorable gentleman I met in the South, say, " The negro 
Yote is easily controlled by the use of money." It was a sur- 
prise, and a painful one : for while money breaks no bones, 
it works fearful mischief upon one's manliness. Indeed 
few things are more demoralizing than bribery. It is not, 
like mercy, "twice blessed," but twice cursed, in "^him 
that gives and him that takes." 

But this is not the worst of the case. There are de- 



NO APOLOGY FOR CRIME. 173 

grees in evil ; and bad as it may be to bribe a mar), it is 
still worse to kiU him. Yet to this extent has the race- 
hatred sometimes gone, by which the worst men in the 
South have placed themselves, and the States of which they 
are taken (very unjustly it may be) to be fair representa- 
tives, beyond the pale of Northern sympathy or supj)ort. 
Do our Southei-n friends realize how hard such violence 
makes it for their fiieuds at the North to defend them? 
The intelhgent peoj^le in New York and in New Eng- 
land fully appreciate the difficulties of the South, and are 
ready to make all reasonable excuses and palliations. But 
no sooner do we get the temper of the Northern mind a 
little subdued, than there comes a story of a negro shot in 
cold blood, or a white man assassinated for no other rea- 
son than that he voted the Republican ticket, and all our 
arguments are knocked into flinders. "We cannot apolo- 
gize for such dastardly crimes ; nor can we keep our own 
blood from boiling when we hear of them. Those who 
connive at them, play into the hands of the most fiery 
element at the North. If Southern politicians wish to 
keep the North solid against them, they have but to let 
their Ku Klux Klans and " Regulators " continue to fur- 
nish fuel to kindle the fires of popular indignation. 

I have had many talks with Southern men in regard to 
these matters, in which they have spoken with the utmost 
frankness. They aU deprecate violence, and regret any 
violations of law. They admit that it is a hard necessity 
which compels them to extreme measures for their own 
protection. But they say, " Self-preservation is the fii-st 
law of nature. We must fight fire with fire. If we can- 
not keep our self-government in one way, we must in an- 
other. It is all that is left us, and we should be less than 
men if we did not fight for it." Sometimes a planter 
describes his own situation, surrounded by blacks, whose 



114 IS THERE NOT A BETTER W AY ? 

votes would quite overwhelm him and aU the whites he 
could muster ; and then he turns to me abruptly, and says, 
"Put yourself in my 2:>lace I what would you do ? Would you 
let everything go to rmn, or do aU in your power to pre- 
vent it ? " This is an embarrassing question, and if, through 
dehcacy, I remain silent, he will 2:)erha2DS think that it ad- 
mits of but one answer, and justifies any measure of re- 
pression or suppression of what would prove so great a 
calamity. "Wherefore candor compels a rej)ly. 

As my Southern friends are so frank with me, they will 
not be offended if I am equally frank with them. They 
know me, not only as a personal friend, but as a friend of 
their people. Perhaps I may presume so far on my friend- 
ship as to say a few words in the utmost kindness to those 
whose prosperity is very near to my heart. 

Is there not a better way to deal with the negro vote 
than to suppress it, viz : to admit it, and see if you can- 
not control it by some legitimate means ? You say, " This 
is a white man's government, and we will never submit to 
be ruled by an inferior race." Very well ! Certainly one 
who himself belongs to the white race, will not object to 
its retaining its supremacy if it be by fair means, by su- 
perior intelligence or character ; but he does object to a 
supremacy that can only be kept by fi'aud and by force. 

Suppose you should try an exjDeriment. At the risk 
of your smHing at my simplicity, I will ventiu'e to ask, 
Is there not a way of giving the negroes some sort of 
political education ? If I were an old planter, surround- 
ed by my former slaves, it seems to me (perhaps if I had 
iried it, I should be a sadder and a wiser man) that I 
would not only put no obstacle in the way of their voting, 
but encourage them to vote — only I would try to persuade 
them to vote what I thought the right ticket. Some may 
think it useless to waste argument on those who are so 



EDUCATION THE ONLY REMEDY. 1T5 

dull, or so dogged in their prejudices and hatreds ; but 
after all the negro is not a fool, and I will not believe, 
until convinced to the contrary, that he cannot be led to 
see what is for his own interest. 

If the blacks are suspicious of special instruction, as if 
you wanted to gain some advantage over them, at least 
they cannot resist the uplifting force of general education, 
which will act upon them as it does upon the latest and 
freshest and rawest of our foreign importations. Here in 
New York we have shiploads of ignorance emptied almost 
daily upon our shores. "What do we do with them ? There 
is but one thing that we can do — convert that ignorance into 
intelligence. This will take a whole generation, but it is 
the only possible means of safety. 

What is wise at the North is wise at the South. The 
negro stands on the same ground as the foreign emigrant, 
both utterly unfitted to be entrusted with the ballot. But 
since they are entrusted with it, it must be ours to see that 
they know how to use it. We must deal with the negro 
vote as we do with the foreign vote. The only remedy 
for ignorance is knowledge ; and as we have a vast system 
of education for the children of the poorest who come to 
us from foreign shores, so the same system of common 
schools, not only furnished, but enforced, for a whole gen- 
eration, will elevate the African race. The South is at this 
moment using the most effectual measui-es to remove the 
unfitness of the negro for the suffrage, by its widespread 
system of colored schools. Let the good work go on 
When the schoolmaster is abroad in the land, there will 
be raised up in time a laboring population, no matter how 
poor or how humble, not below the rank and file of the 
foreign contingent of our New York democracy, and quite 
intelligent enough to exercise the right of voting without 
danger to the State. 



176 FEAR OF NEGRO DOMINATION. 

In discussing this question, we are embarrassed by the 
apprehension which seems to pervade the South, of negro 
domination — a fear that surprises us in a people of such 
unbounded courage. Setting one race over against the 
other, such a transfer of dominion seems not within the 
range of possibility. No matter how the blacks may in- 
crease, they can never be a match for the superior intel- 
ligence and power of organization of the whites. Yet 
even Mr. Grady, (whose death, while these pages are going 
through the press, has awakened universal sorrow,) a man 
who had seen too much of public affairs to be easily fright- 
ened, thought it necessary to sound the alarm. ]\Ii'. George 
W. Cable, who, though a Southern man, now lives at the 
North, and takes what some of us woiild consider an ex- 
treme Northern view of the case, in a recent addi*ess said : 

"My opinions have been uninfluenced by the tallc about the 
•New South.' The only 'New South' is the industrial South, 
and the change there is only partial and along the line of the 
mineral belt. Henry "W. Grady's speech at the New England 
dinner at New York, meant little. At the Texas Agricultural 
Fair a few months ago, he called on an audience he was address- 
ing to defend to the last drop of their blood the principle of the 
white man's domination of the negro ! " 

This was certainly a stirring appeal ; but was there any 
occasion for our eloquent fi'iend to anticipate a change so 
overwhelming? Is there really the slightest danger of 
negro domination at the South? If it ever comes to a 
contest of arms, there would not be a battle, but a mas- 
sacre. I must say that Mr. Cable expressed himself with 
more justice as well as moderation, when he said : 

"My own notion is that the true Southern problem is not 
whether the white man shall dominate the negro, or the negro 
the white man. If it were, I suppose I should have to declare 
in favor of the whites. But the problem is whether American 
citizens shall not enjoy equal rights in the choice of their rulers. 



DR. CURRY ON THE RACE PROBLEM. 177 

It is not a question of the negroes' right to rule. It is simply a 
question of their rig-ht to choose rulers ; and as in reconstruc- 
tion days they selected more -white men for office than men of 
their own race, they would probably do so now." 

But as Mr. Cable is just now out of favor at the South, 
I will quote another and a very high authority on South- 
ern questions, Dr. J. L. M. Ciu-ry of Kichmond, late Minis- 
ter to Spain, and now Administrator of the Peabody Fund 
for Education at the South, who, if he has not so much of 
the ardor of youth, has the wisdom of age, and who, in 
an address before the Legislature of Georgia, used these 
plain words : 

"I want to say to you in perfect frankness, that the man who 
thinks the negro problem has been settled, is either a fanatic or 
a fool. I stand aghast at the problem. I don't believe civiliza- 
tion ever encountered one of greater magnitude. It casts a 
dark shadow over your churches, your government, and your 
future. It is a great problem, which will tax your energies. 
Georgia was once Shermanized. Georgia, with the South Afri- 
canized, as it may be, would be a thousand times worse than 
Shermanized. 

"But you may make the outlook as black as possible, and 
yet ignorance and poverty are not remedies for the situation. 
Better have the negroes educated ; better that they should have 
intelligent preachers, intelligent industry, improved homes. 
Which is better — to brutalize and pauperize, or humanize, civil- 
ize, and Christianize? I leave it to you to settle the problem. 

"There are people who say this ought to be a white man's 
government. I am not prepared to contest that proposition ; 
but I beg you to remember that the negroes — and I am glad of 
it — have friends at the North who are befriending them. But 
they are not coming to your relief. You must help yourselves, 
if you are helped at all. 

"I know that the indications are prophetic of a race con- 
flict. God save us from it ! I know that dark shadows of the 
future are flung across our pathway. It is idle to shut our 
eyes. It is better to meet such dangers half way, even though 
they come no further. There is nothing iper se in a white skin 
unless behind that skin lie the hereditary experiences of centu- 



nS A CATASTROPHE POSTPONED. 

ries of good government. I know that the negro of Africa has 
no invention, no discovery, no law, no literature, no govern- 
ment, no civilization. Why? If you put the Caucasian under 
the same environment, and keep him there ten or twenty centu- 
ries, there will be no invention, no science, no discovery, no 
history, no civilization, among Caucasians. Your ancestors and 
mine were once pagans and cannibals. We have become what 
we are, not by virtue of a white skin, but by improving govern- 
ment and good laws. Let the negro children get an education 
where yours do not — let the negro be superior to you in culture 
and property — and you will have a black man's government. 
Improvement, cultivation, education, is the secret, the condition 
and guarantee, of race supremacy. I shall astonish you, per- 
haps, by saying that if the negro developes and becomes in 
culture, property, and civilization superior to the white man, 
the negro ought to rule. You are to see to it that he does not 
become so. The responsibility is with you." 

This puts things in rather a different light. It lays the 
responsibility of the superiority of the negro race (if that 
should ever come) upon the whites themselves ; while it 
fixes the period so far away that it would need an inspired 
prophet to tell the date of its coming. As the time at 
which a race is attaining maturity is put at " ten or twenty 
centuries," I think our Southern friends may safely post- 
pone the catastrophe of negro domination to the next 
generation ! 



CHAPTER XIV. 
OLD MASTERS CARING FOR THEIR OLD SLAVES. 

"Tou people of the North do not know the negro. 
You draw a fancy sketch, as Mrs. Stowe did in her Uncle 
Tom's Cabin, and fall in love with the picture of j^our 
imagination. But that is not the real African. The 
negro, pure and simple — that is, apart from all romantic 
associations — is not an attractive creature. He is gross in 
body and dull in mind. He may do well enough as a 
laborer in the lowest kinds of work, when guided by the 
superior intelligence of the white man ; but if you seek 
for anything higher than that, you will not find it. There 
is no fire in his eye, and no thought in his brain. If you 
wish to make a man of him, you must put a soul inside of 
his body. And his moral state is as low as his intellectual. 
In short, he is very far down in the scale of humanity: 
poor and ignorant ; low of origin, and bad by nature ; 
debased by every vice, and capable of every crime ! " 

Such are the colors, blacker than the skin he wears, 
in which some would paint the negro of the South. As 
these harsh words grate upon the ear of the stranger, he 
is tempted to reply m terms equally emphatic. But it is 



180 THE NEGRO IN THE DARKEST COLORS. 

better to keep silence, at least until the speaker is done. 
Let the blast blow itself out : it is not tiH the storm is 
past that there is any chance to hear the stiU, small voice 
of reason and of truth. Even then I should begin my 
protest very modestly by confessing that this wholesale 
depreciation has some faint shadow of truth, just enough 
to give it plausibihty. You say that the negro is "poor" 
- — it is true ; that he is "ignorant" — it is true ; that he is 
"low of origin" — that also is true (although it is nothing 
new in human development — we can even trace back our 
own " great race " to a period at which it began its pro- 
cess of evolution at the lowest point); and if he were 
"bad by nature," that would be only the natural result of 
conditions so unfavorable. That he should be " debased 
by every vice, and capable of every crime," is what could 
be said with equal truth of thousands in all our great 
cities, who are born and bred under conditions equally 
unfavorable to virtue. I only wonder that the negro is 
what he is, when I think whence he came, and through 
what ages of suffering he has passed. 

If you set out to paint him as black as you can, the 
materials are at hand. You may treat him as a natui'alist 
would treat a singular variety of the human species, and 
set him down in your scientific catalogue as a freak of 
nature. You may confirm your theory by tracing his his- 
tory : beginning far back in the wilds of Africa, and 
seeing him come out of the slime and ooze of the jungle, 
with his very blood poisoned by malarious swamps, and 
his imagination haunted by murky superstitions which 
reflect the gloom of the forest. Traces of such an origin 
you may find in him still, in which he bears a resemblance 
to his fathers, who offered human sacrifices. I admit it 
all : that he is the dark child of a Dark Continent, with 
the stamp of oppression, if not of degradation, on his 



WHO 13 TO BLAME FOR IT I 181 

brow. But is that any justification of wrong? How- 
ever low and degraded he may be, 

"A man's a man for a' that " ; 

and the fact that he is poor and ignorant, is no reason 
why we should take advantage of him, to cheat him, or 
rob him, or oppress him. On the contrary, his very help- 
lessness appeals to the generosity of the stronger race to 
reach out its powerful arm to lift him up. 

And here, if I were replying to one who had pronounc- 
ed this sweeping judgment on the whole African race, I 
would add one parting word : " If this be the result of 
yoiir experience with your negroes, did it never occur to 
you as just possible that you were partly responsible for 
their intellectual and moral degradation ? Good masters 
make good servants : why is it that yours have turned out 
so badly? In condemning them, you condemn yourself; 
and the best, indeed the only, atonement you can make 
for your neglect in the past, is to befriend and help them 
in th-e future." 

But I will not trust myself to enter into an argument 
with men who in the days of their power were violent and 
cruel, and whose attitude towards their former depend- 
ents is still that of hatred and contempt. Nor wiU I be so 
unjust as to reckon all old masters with them. In the 
days of slavery slaveholders were like other men ; having 
among them a mixture of good and bad. There were all 
sorts of masters as there were all sorts of men. There 
were hard masters, and there were kind masters : and it 
would not be fair that one class should siiffer for the sins 
of the other. 

Nor have their characters changed with their condi- 
tion. The old master who was hard and selfish, will be 
hard and selfish still. But from such a poor example, I 



182 GOOD OLD MASTERS. 

tiu*n to one of another stamp. Those whose memories 
reach back to a former generation, will recall manj a 
master who was borne to his last resting place by his 
faithful servants, who, as they laid him down, shed bitter 
tears over the grave of one who had been their greatest 
benefactor. This feeling may have been changed in some 
who survived the war. There were those who were so 
soured by the loss of their slaves, that they could hardly 
bear to hear them spoken of, and muttered with a savage 
brutalit}', " Let them take care of themselves ; let them go 
to the dogs ! " But others there were who had been kind 
and gentle before, and were kind and gentle stilk Had you 
by chance met one of them, you might have heard him say, 
" These poor people served me faithfully while they were 
bondmen : I will be their friend and helper now that they 
are free." In losing the ownership) of his slaves, he did 
not lose his interest in them ; but still cared for them, and 
tried to smooth their path, even though they had joassed 
fiom under his control. The rupture that had come be- 
tween them, was like the tearing asunder of the paiis of 
the human body, leaving the feet to walk and the hands 
to seize the implements of labor, with no eyes to see, and 
no brain to guide them. It is hardly possible to conceive 
of a more helpless human being than the newly-emanci- 
pated slave— houseless, homeless ; without food, with not 
even a hoe-cake in the cabin ; having nothing, doing no- 
thing, and earning nothing. Then it was that he needed 
more than ever a friend, and a friend he found in his old 
master, who was the first to give him something to do. 
He had not a sixpence to buy a peck of corn ; his old 
master gave him wages. Above all, he needed direction, 
and to whom should he turn so soon as to the one who 
had been his gaide for so many years, and who now took 
him by the hand like a child, and led him on till he could 



PRESENT DUTY TO THE OLD SLAVES. 183 

get strength to walk alone ? I do not saj this was the 
case with all old master.3 —perhaps not with the majority; 
biit it was with enough to redeem the race from the re- 
proach of salfish indifference to the suffering of their fel- 
low-creatures. These are the representatives whom I have 
in mind as "caring for their old slaves." And if any of 
my Southern friends think it presuming in a Northerner 
to make suggestions to them as to how they should treat 
their formor dejiendents, I answer that I only give you 
back what you gave to me ; that I have taken my models 
and examples from among yourselves, and taken them only 
to give them the honor which they deserve, and to hold 
them up to universal imitation. 

What has been done before can be done again, and on 
a much larger scale, and with much greater effect. The 
help which the old master can give his old slaves is not 
help in money. That perhaps he has not to give ; and if 
he had, it would only do mischief to scatter it about 
among them, for it would only make them more careless 
and improvident. He can serve them better, not merely by 
making fair bargains with them and paying them prompt- 
ly, but by taking a kindly interest in their welfare, and 
helping them in their little economies. What they want 
is intelligent guidance — a little of the white man's brains 
to show them how to pick up something for themselves, 
and how to keep it tiU they get enough to buy a little 
cabin and a few acres of ground, to make a home, for that 
is the starting-point of all that is good in them. Perhaps 
they do not need to be urged to send their children to 
school, for they are said to be very eager that they should 
learn ; but a little encouragement never comes amiss as a 
means of help, both intellectual and moral. I place an 
emphasis on the last word, as it marks the point of great- 
est weakness in the ex-slave, where he needs most the 



184 WANT OF MORAL STAMINA IN NEGROES. 

benefit of his master's example. It is not in " book-edu- 
cation," but in the training of character. The complaint 
that I hear constantly may be thus expressed : " The negro 
has no moral stamina. There is no way in which you can 
get hold of him, legally or morally. You engage him to 
work for you a week, and he will work two or three days, 
and then leave you with no reason except that he takes it 
into his fooHsh head that he'd rather go a-fishing ! He 
has no conscience about it, no moral sense, and no force of 
will, or persistence in anything that he undertakes. Such 
a creature is hardly a responsible being, and you must cre- 
ate the elements of a moral nabire — reason, conscience, 
and will — before you can deal with him as an intelligent 
subject of law and a member of civilized society." 

You say they are wanting in moral stamina ; but where 
should they get moral stamina but from you, their former 
masters, who are still in their eyes the highest types of 
manhood, their heroes and examples? The negro is at 
once a very observing and a very imitative creatiure. He 
can see the difference in white folks — between the " poor 
trash " and the man to whom all look up ; and so he can 
see the difference between what used to be called on the 
plantation a "low-down nigger," and a black man whom 
the whites as well as the blacks regard with respect. At 
the same time his very habit of mimicry, which is a pecu- 
liar gift of the race, leads him to imitate what others ad- 
mire. He apes the air and the style of his old master. 
If he was coarse and vulgar, his chief show of manhood 
being his swearing and swaggering manner, he cannot ex- 
pect the old slave to improve upon his model. On the 
other hand, if he possessed that highest virtue, self-con- 
trol, which never burst out into a furious i:)assion, but was 
always quiet and restrained, it had, and still has, a power- 
ful effect upon his old slave. In order to command others 



TO BE TREATED LIKE CHILDREN. 185 

one must first command liimself, and his example will be 
more powerful than any authority. 

Of course in dealing with a people that are so careless 
and heedless, there will be many things very discouraging. 
Some of my Southei'n friends are getting weary of this 
constant pushing up-hill the heavy stone, that, the instant 
it is let go, comes roUing to the bottom. But I venture 
to say to them. Be a little patient ! Lay aside your con- 
temptuous manner towards the colored brethren, even if 
you have to put up with some manifestations of joy in 
their new-found liberty that may provoke a smile. It is 
the natural consequence of that " holy estate " of liberty 
whereinto they have come, that they should be at first 
somewhat dazed and bewildered. They are "like them 
that dream," and in the intoxication of their first sense of 
freedom and independence, it would be strange indeed if 
some of their performances were not rather grotesque. 
All this is in the course of nature, and is no more to be 
resented or criticized than the caperings of a young colt 
that " feels his oats," and being let loose, starts off on a run. 
By-and-by he will sober down, and be subdued to the quiet 
and dignified jog of a useful worker in the world. 

Recognizing aU this, the colored people of the South 
are to be treated with the greatest possible kindness. The 
negro is not an abnormal specimen of humanity : he is 
simply a child, and to be treated as a child. If you have 
a child that is rather dull and slow of improvement, you 
do not beat him, but teach him, and have long patience 
with him, till finally you make a man of him. So these 
Americans " of African descent " are but children in under- 
standing, and are to be treated like ehildi-en, not with 
severity on the one hand, nor fond indulgence on the 
other. Treat the negro as a brute and a savage, and you 
make him one. Hunt him as a wil-d beast in the swamps 



186 THE HARDEST TRIAL OF PATIENCE. 

with bloodhounds, and you may yet feel his vengeance in 
the deadly shot fired on a lonely road, or in the flames of 
your burning dwellings. But treat him kindly, and trust 
to the better nature that is in him to respond to kindness. 
If he does not respond, so much the worse for him ; but 
you at least have done your duty. But do not then, in the 
excess of your good nature, turn round and flatter him, so 
as to fill him with conceit, for that is the worst possible 
thing for him. It is worse than cruelty — indeed it is the 
greatest cruelty. The negro — ignorant, simple creature 
that he is — is easily flattered, and while under this influ- 
ence, he loses the little sense that he has ; he does not 
know whether he stands on his head or his feet, and is 
easily made the tool of a demagogue, who wishes to use 
him for his own selfish piu'i^oses. Ignorant peoj)le are ajDt 
to be suspicious, and are often shy of their best friends, 
w^hilst giving their confidence and their votes to impostors 
and deceivers ; and it would not be strange if the negroes 
were at first to shake their heads, and think that the old 
master had some selfish purpose to gain by his unexpected 
kindness. All this is a state of things which requii'es the 
most delicate handling. Such distrust can only be re- 
moved by degrees. But in time unfailing kindness will 
do its work, by bringing the old masters and their former 
slaves into a mutual understanding and good feeling, that 
will be for the prosperity and the happiness of both. 

Perha^DS the most severe trial of patience is to labor for 
those who are not grateful for it. Ingratitude is an 
infirmity that belongs to our poor human nature, and we 
must not expect the colored people to be fi-ee fi-om it. 
Coupled with this there is often a self-sufficiency that is 
very discouraging. Northern teachers who have gone 
South to teach the colored people, thereby exposing them- 
selves to social ostracism, have acknowledged to me that 



"a very slow business." 187 

their greatest trial was, not the hostility of the whites, nor 
even the ignorance and stupidity of the blacks, but their 
seK-sufficiency Not long ago I visited a University, which 
had some hundreds of colored students, and as I watched 
the long procession of young men fiUng out from their 
halls, a Professor said to me, " There is not one of them 
who does not think that he is competent to run the whole 
concern ! " Naturally, their teachers are pained at this 
want of appreciation and of gratitude for the services 
which they render at very great cost to themselves. But 
what of that ? If we wait for gratitude as the reward for 
doing good, we shall accomphsh but little in this world. 
Even Christ pleased not Himself, and it is enough that the 
discijDle be as his Master, and the servant as his Lord. 

" But this is very slow business ! " Of course it is slow, 
as all the great processes of nature are slow. " It may 
take years ! " Yes : and it may take generations. But is 
not the end worth aU the toil and the delay ? To educate 
one mind, to form one character, to bring one sinner home 
to God, is often the work of a lifetime, and that life is not 
spent in vain. What then is it to lift a whole people out of 
the depressed state in which they have been for ages ? 

The first condition of doing anything is to appreciate 
the greatness of the work. We are too ready to rush to 
the conclusion that everj'thing was done for the negro by 
the war, whereas the work was only then begun. It indeed 
emancipated the slaves ; it gave them the same rights that 
belong to other citizens of the Republic ; but it did not 
change their natui-e any more than it changed their color; 
it did not make one hair white or black. Those who were 
ignorant and degraded before, are ignorant and degraded 
still. In order to change that condition, we have to edu- 
cate, not by units, but by millions — an undertaking that 
may well appal us by its magnitude. 



188 A GREAT OPPORTUNITY. 

Here is the great opportunity of the Kepublic, and of 
Christian civilization — to raise up an inferior race to the 
level of our own. This is at once the greatest and the most 
difficult work that was ever attempted by man. But it is 
the work that God has given us to do, and blessed is he 
who has a part in it. And to have a pai^t, it is not neces- 
sary to be in a jDublic station — a governor or a legislator : 
for it will be accomplished in private spheres, by the per- 
sonal influence of good men of one race coming in con- 
tact with the masses of the other. You may make all the 
laws in the world, and enforce them by all your power, 
civil and military : they do not touch the seat of the dis- 
ease. The jDoison is in the blood ; in the profound mu- 
tual distrust which divides the two races. How is this to 
be overcome ? How are they to be brought together ? In 
the advance towards a better understanding, the stronger 
race must lead the way. The white man, in his inter- 
course with the blacks, never forgets his own superiority. 
Then he must accept its obligations. Noblesse oblige, and 
the first of all its obligations is coui'tesy to inferiors. 
Kindness disarms distrust, and begets confidence — a warm 
atmosphere in which prejudices and animosities dissolve 
and die. There is no heart so hard that it can resist 
a love which "never faileth." The true solvent of the 
Bace Problem, as of all social questions, is gentleness, 
not the gentleness of weakness, but the gentleness of 
power. "Thy gentleness hath made me great," is the 
Divine method ; and so in human relations, a gentleness 
that is at once subdued and strong is the very breath of 
God. It is the South wind, causing the spices to flow out. 
And what healing influences will come from the school- 
houses! Already "the woods are full of them," hum- 
ming like so many hives of bees ; in which the noble army 
of teachers, faithful men, and faithful women, too — God 



WHAT MAY BE IN THE NEXT CENTURY. 189 

bless them ! — are -working in the spirit of their Master 
for the uplifting of a lowly race. Work on, brave hearts ! 
"We send you our word of cheer and of hope. There is a 
better day coming, though we shaU not live to see it. But 
whatever any of us can do, Httle though it be, will not be 
lost. Long after we are dead and gone, the seeds of kind- 
ness, sown by voice or pen, will spring up and blossom 
from the dust. And at last, in some far-off future year, 
wiU the desired end come, when no man shall vex his 
neighbor, since universal love brings universal peace. 
Then — in the middle of the next century, it may be — 
a generation not yet born may see those happier times 
which our eyes are not permitted to behold. 



CHAPTEE XV. 

A CAMP-MEETING IN THE WOODS, WITH A FEW WORDS 
TO MY COLORED BRETHREN. 

The desire to do full justice to one side of a question, 
often leads to injustice to the other — a danger I have felt 
from the beginning of this discussion. Wliile trying to 
present the case of the whites of the South in the most 
favorable light, I have feared that I might seem unsympa- 
thetic with those who had suffered from the more power- 
ful race. If it were a mere question of sympathy, I shovdd 
always be on tbe side of the weak against the strong. 
But it is not a matter of feeling, but of truth and of justice, 
in which one needs to be on his guard against being led 
away by bis sympathies, so as to imiDair the value of his 
judgment. 

Have I really leaned to the stronger side ? Then I will 
try to restore the balance by leaning to the other ; and my 
last words shall be to my colored friends. In these I hope 
they will not think that I assume a condescending or 
patronizing tone. I do not wish to pat them on the back, 
or delude them with high-sounding promises to the ear, 
that will be broken to the hope. I love them too much to 
deceive them. As the only true kindness is in perfect 



CAMP-MEETING IN THE WOODS. 191 

frankness, I -wish that my parting words should at least 
bear this proof of what I feel so deeply. 

But it is very awkward to talk in a familiar way 
with those at a distance : it seems as if I were shooting 
into the air, and over the heads of everybody within 
hundreds of miles, with a vague idea that somehow and 
someiohere I should hit somebody. Now if I am to talk, 
I like to have my hearers near enough to see the whites 
of their eyes ; and so, if you do not object, I v,'ill, for 
the purpose of this famihar talk, suppose ourselves to be 
assembled in a big camp-meeting, in a grove of live oaks — 
those magnificent trees which are the glory of the South- 
ern forests, and which, when bearded with moss, seem like 
the veterans of another generation, looking down upon their 
puny descendants at their feet. Here there is ample space 
for you aU to rest at your ease, leaning against the trees, 
or sitting on the ground, if perchance the talk should be 
a little dull, or you can prick up your ears if there be any- 
thing worth listening to. I can promise only that it shaU 
be the advice of a sincere friend. With this I begin : 

Men and brethren ! The Lord has brought you out of 
the house of bondage! He has set before you an oj)en 
door, leading to a straight path of safety and of peace ; 
but He does not compel you to walk in it : it is left to you 
to take your own course. Hence my first word to you — 
and the last aho — is this : Your fate is in your own hands ; 
the great work for your race must be done by yourselves. 
If any of you have got an idea, because of the way in 
which you were cared for by your old masters, that you 
are to be "carried" as long as you live, the sooner you 
get rid of it the better. Even if they were ever so kind 
and ever so willing, they could not do everything for you, 
and they ought not if they could, for it would only keep 
you in a state of perpetual childhood. The sooner you 



192 ABRAHAM AND HIS CABIN. 

come to a "realizing sense" that you have got to take 
care of yoiu'selves, the better it will be for you. Nor must 
you look to the Government to provide for your -wants. 
It is not the business" of the Government to feed black 
men any more than to feed white men. There is but one 
law for white and black : He who will not work neither 
shall he eat. This little word of fovir letters is the key to 
Paradise. 

As I am saying this, I see a man of large stature and 
great bodily strength standing on the outskirts of the 
wood, in doubt whether to accept this hard doctrine. 
Let him not be in a hurry about it ; but go off a little way, 
and sit down under a solitary oak, where nobody wiU 
disturb him, and he can do " a heaj) o' thinking." Indeed, 
if we can " let up " on the talking for a few minutes, and 
vary the exercises with a spell of singing (which stirs the 
blood, when rolled out by such magnificent voices), I will 
go and sit down by him for a little private conversation. 

" Well, Abraham " — I use this name as one that is 
familiar to me and has jDleasant associations — "how do 
you like being a free man?" He answers slowly, "Things 
ain't quite so easy as they used to be on the old planta- 
tion." " Yes : I know it, but think what you have gained 
by the exchange. True, you've got only a mere patch of 
ground with a log-cabin upon it. It's ' mighty little.' 
YeSj but it's yours. And Dinah, who keeps it for you, is 
yoiu's, and no man can take her from you ; and the little 
merry faces that I see around, grinning with their white 
teeth, and laughing out of their eyes — all are yours 1 
They may not be as well dressed as white folks' children, 
but Dinah will patch up their tattered garments ; and as 
long as 3^ou can scratch ground in that garden patch fast 
enough to keep them in hoe-cake and corn-dodgers, and 
they are plump as so many rabbits, you need not be 



don't call on cjssar for help. 193 

troubled. Isn't it something to work for ' joux own self ' ? 
You are no man's slave, and can sit before your humble 
door when the day is done, and sing : 

' "We own de hoe, we own de plough, 
We own de hands dat hold ; 
"We sell de pig, we sell de cow. 
But nebber chile be sold.' 

"What a motive you have in that wife and children to work, 
since you can enjoy all the fruits of your labor which God 
giveth you under the sun 1 Then work, and work hard I 
That's the price of anything that is to be gained in this 
world. Quiet industry will make you comfortable and 
respectable. That is the way you are to make your own 
position, without ' calling on Caesar for help,' unless it be 
the Csesar and Pompey in the next cabin. 

"And now, Abraham, remember this one word : You 
must work out your own salvation ! No man can do it 
for you : you must do it for yourself. You must fight 
your own battles, not with sword and gun, but ' wid de 
shovel and de hoe.' That old hoe is the best weapon 
that was ever put into the hands of a man, white or black. 
The Lord put it into the hands of Adam when he got into 
a bad way in the Garden of Eden, and it has been a 
mighty instrument to keep his descendants from going to 
the bad ever since. As long as you keep hold of the hoe- 
handle, you keep your hands out of mischief, and that is 
no small thing in this wicked world." 

As this kind of talk seems to make an impression, 
when I go back to " the stand," I look about and spy 
another huge, lumbering fellow, and fixing upon him my 
"glittering eye," I talk to him in the same direct fash- 
ion : "Is it not a shame that you, an able-bodied man, 
should ' lie around ' and waste your time, when once you 
could work like a hero ? You, who cotild be a slave for 



194 SAVE YOUR MONEY ! 

your master — can you not be a siave for yourself, and for 
your wife and children ? Think about it, and keep on 
thinking till you get the idea so deep into your head 
that it will stay there. If, as some sneeringly sslj, your 
slowness in receiving ideas is because nature has pro- 
vided 3'ou with a better protection for the brain than for 
us thin-skinned and thin-skulled white folks, the same 
physiological fact ought to make it easier for you, when 
once you have got hold of an idea, to keep it locked up in 
this secure repository of the most precious things which 
you have to carry. 

There is another idea which I would like to di'op into 
that iron-bound chest, viz : that you not only work now 
and then, by fits and starts, but regularly, as white men 
do — every day in the week, and so many hours a day. If 
you only work three days, and are idle the rest, you will 
alwaj^s be a vagabond, a loafer, and a beggar. What you 
need is to form a habit of industry that will become to 
you a second nature. 

A third idea, which is literally worth its weight in gold, 
though I shall charge you nothing for it, is, Save what you 
earn ! Your wages may be small ; but no matter how 
smaU they be, you can save a little of them. Do you not 
spend some of your hard-earned money for drink ? That 
is a great deal worse than throwing it away. Keep away 
from those vile dens in the woods, that are worse than 
rattlesnakes' holes ! If you can save the sixpences that 
go into that bottomless pit, in a few weeks they will count 
up some shilhngs, or even dollars, enough to put into a 
savings bank. That marks the point where a black man's 
fortune begins to turn. His name will no longer be pre- 
fixed with a word speUed with two gs ; and when it gets 
around among his people that he has money in the "bank (I), 
they win speak of him as IVIr. Jones 1 



GET A HOME ! 195 

But I do not urge you to save yoiu' money in order to 
make a miser out of you ; but that you should get a home, 
which is, or ought to be, the aim and end of every hard- 
working man, white or black. It will be the happiest 
moment of your life when you can go into a little cabin, 
and look round on the rough walls, and say, " This is 
mine 1 It isn't Master's. I'm Master ! " Ah, my friend, I 
know not what transport you may feel when you pass over 
the waters of death, and your feet touch the heavenly 
shores ; but this side of Jordan there is no keener pleasiu'e 
than when you enter your humble dwelling. It is yours. 
Nobody has given it to you : nobody except the Creator, 
who gave you strong arms and a strong will to take care 
of yourself. 

But perhaps some of you are not content with the log- 
cabin, however neat and trim it may be, or with the shovel 
and the hoe. It is too much like being on the old planta- 
tion. WeU, for my part, I consider the cultivation of the 
earth to have been, from the time of the Garden of Eden, 
the most honorable occupation of man. But if your 
young fellows look for " something higher," there is no law 
to keep them in the cabin, or on the five-acre lot : they 
can go into the towns and cities, where they will find me- 
chanical employments open to them. The danger is that, 
having no trade to work at, they will not find anything to 
do, and so will wander about the streets, and become just 
as useless as would the same number of white vagabonds. 
But if they are in earnest to work, and ready to take what- 
ever comes to hand, they can soon make a place for them- 
selves. They can become, not only hostlers and teamsters 
and draymen, but skilled mechanics. In Atlanta colored 
men are blacksmiths, masons, carpenters, and house-build- 
ers, and work side by side with white mechanics, with no 
friction between them. 



196 BE KIND TO ONE ANOTHER. 

In tliis way the negro can soon take care of himself. 
If he is a good mechanic, he will find plenty to do. Of 
coui'se, if he is a poor workman, he must not expect to be 
emploj^ed simply because of his color. But let him show 
superior skill, and he will not stand idle. If there be in 
Atlanta a bright-eyed and strong-limbed son of Africa, 
who has got the reputation of being the best blacksmith 
in the city, the Southerner who has his stable full of 
blooded horses will ride by the open forges of all the 
white blacksmiths, to find the man who can shoe his horse 
in the best way. No man ever hated the negro to such a 
degree that he did not prefer a good black mechanic to a 
poor white one 1 

My next word may surprise you : Be kind to one 
another ! I should not presume to say this, as if you were 
in any special need of it, if it were not for what I hear 
about you. But some who have had to do with colored 
people all their Hves, tell me that, however subservient 
they may be to white folks, they are by no means gentle 
among themselves ; that fathers whip their children with- 
out mercy ; and that negroes placed over others do not 
prove the most indulgent "bosses"; that a little authority 
turns their heads ; that they hke to show their power, and 
that this makes them hard, often to the point of cruelty. 
They tell me that on the old plantation a slaveholder could 
do nothing that wovdd so soon create a panic on the place, 
as to give his people a black overseer, as he was pretty 
sure to be more rough in the field than a white man. A 
friend fi'om Virginia recently told me that if a negro was 
arrested on a charge of crime, his first request was that 
there should be no one of his own color on the jury ; that 
his instinct told him that white men would be more len- 
ient to his infirmities, big or httle, than those of his own 
race. 



PLATING WITH FIRE. 19T 

These are not pleasant things to hear. I do not knovr 
that they are true. You know better than I. But if they 
are true, you can hardly expect your white friends, how- 
ever kind-hearted they may be, to be very considerate of 
your feeHngs or your interests, when you are indifferent to 
the feelings or interests of your colored brothers and sis- 
ters, who may be in a condition of the greatest poverty 
and helplessness. "Bear one another's burdens," and you 
will find your white neighbors very willing to bear your 
burdens with you. 

And that leads to another point that is all-important to 
your comfort and happiness : Do not let anybody per- 
suade you that white folks are unfriendly to you. Some 
of your own race go about saying such things, and stirring 
up hatred. But whoever whispers this to you, be he white 
or black, is a very bad adviser. If you listen to him, you 
will always be in hot water ; in a sour, ugly mood, making 
threats, and watching for a chance of retaliation. 

Be careful ! You are playing with fire in the midst of 
the most inflammable materials. It is very easy to stir up 
passion ; it is not so easy to control it. If ever there 
should come the awful calamity of a race- war, it will come 
by the preaching of this fiery gospel of hatred and re- 
venge. Of course there is enough to stir up the excitable 
African nature. Here is a powerful negro, who is not 
a bad fellow at heart, but is maddened by the memory 
of cruelties in the old days of slavery, when perhaps he 
was subjected to the lash to "break his spirit." Such 
a man may easily be converted into a desperado, lurk- 
ing in swamps, only to emerge now and then to do some 
deed that thrills the land with horror. It is easy to see 
where his career will end ; but were it not better to tame 
this African lion before he becomes so desperate and so 
terrible ? And if he cannot be tamed by the whites, the 



198 POLITICAL DUTIES : GOING TO THE POLLS. 

verj sight of whom rouses all the hatred within him, let 
him be held in check by his own kindled. If I had the ear 
of your leaders — for you have leaders as much as we — I 
would implore them, in the name of God and of their 
race, to restrain the fury of the more violent among you, 
lest it become a contagion of madness, spreading rapidly 
and wildly, and involve yoiu: whole people in one common 
ruin. 

But for you who have no wrongs to embitter you, these 
suspicions are as foolish as they are wicked. Throw all this 
stuff to the dogs ! AVhen the tempter comes, say, Get thee 
behind me, Satan ! The white men are not your enemies, 
but your best friends. They heljo you by giving you work 
to do ; they pay you wages ; they tax themselves for 
schools for your children ; they encourage you to help 
yourselves ; and if yon would only listen to the advice 
they give, and follow it, it would be a great deal better for 
you and for your children. 

But I have said nothing yet about your political du- 
ties : these I have left to the last, because I think them 
the least of all God's mercies, and the most unimportant 
to yo\ix pr extent well-being. " But," you ask, " do you mean 
that we shall give up the rights that have been given to us 
by the laws of the country ? " By no means. But there 
is a difference between having a right and exercising it. 
The latter is a matter of time and judgment. I may not 
STUTender a single one of my legal rights, and yet there 
may be reasons sufficient to myself why I should defer 
asserting them to a more convenient season. And so, my 
good friends, the less you talk and think about " j)<^litics," 
the better it will be for you. If you can go to the polls and 
vote quietly, without getting into trouble with your white 
neighbors, do so ; but do not go armed, for the good rea- 
son that in a pitched battle you will be sure to be beaten — 



GOOD ADVICE : DO NOT TAKE YOUR GUNS ! 199 

[no matter what your aumbers may be, tbey will be no 
match for the superior intelligence and organization of 
your adversaries] — and further, you will gain more by 
waiting than by fighting. For the present your strength 
is to sit stiU. Time will do for you more than you can do 
for yourselves. 

We sometimes get wisdom from an imexpected source ; 
and not long ago I found this nugget of gold from Mr, 
C. P. Huntington, one of the half dozen men who built 
the first railroad to the Pacific. Some months since he 
was down in Mississippi, and happened to be present at a 
gathering of colored people, whom he addressed in a few 
plain, homely words, that seemed to cover the whole case. 
He said : 

"Boys, you must be industrious! Save your money, and 
put it into land. If you do this, you will soon own the soil, 
and command the respect of your enemies and the confidence 
of your friends. You will have to learn to deny yourselves the 
gewgaws which it seems so easy for you to spend your money 
for. If justice is slow, do not get impatient, for it will come in 
the course of time. Go to the polls, but do not take your guns I 
If you are not permitted to vote, go again, and keep on going 
patiently as a silent protest against this political in^'ustice ; and 
in time you will have your rights, with the capacity to use them 
wisely." 

As to this whole political business, one word of caution : 
Don't expect too much from the General Government! 
I know it is the most natural thing in the world, when 
you get into straits, to call on the power at Washington to 
help you out, and party papers echo the cry. Just now 
we hear a loud call upon Congress to secure to the negroes 
at the South "a free ballot and an honest count" — an 
admirable thing to do, if there were not several big stum- 
bling-blocks, veritable boulders, in the way, which no one 
has pointed out more clearly than President Harrison, 



200 A WARNING FROM THE PRESIDENT. 

who in a speech in the Senate, March 3, 1886, showed the 
difficulty, even the impossibility, of doing this very thing. 
He said : 

"I have looked hopefuUy In the old times to the forcible 
Intervention of the General Government. I have thought that 
it might be possible under that stringent legislation which 
Congress adopted, by the forcible intervention of the Federal 
authority, to protect them [the negroes] in those rights of which 
they were so cruelly deprived. But I have ceased to have faith 
in the possibility of that intervention in their behalf, constituted 
as this Government is, with its complex organization of Federal 
and State governments, independent within certain limitations. 
In the States and in the tribunals which they establish, and in 
the venue where the offences are committed, crimes against the 
colored people must be tried. Of necessity the successful vindi- 
cation of the rights of these people fails unless there is a senti- 
ment in the locality where the offences are to be examined into 
and punished that reprobates and condemns them." 

If such be the language of our Chief Magistrate, who 
was elected partly because of his pronounced political 
opinions in regard to the rights of the colored people, to 
the defence of which he is pledged, not only by party ties, 
but by his personal sympathies and all his public career, 
we may well hesitate in urging the Government to a policy 
which the head of the Government has already declared to 
be impossible. Better wait a little longer, even though it 
be at the cost of some hardship, than precipitate a conflict, 
which can only end in disaster and defeat. 

Meanwhile is there not something else to think about 
than going to election ? Does it really make any difference 
in your corn crop ? " De yam will grow, de cotton blow," 
no matter who is Governor; and if you should stay at 
home on election day, and spend it in your garden, while 
others go tearing by on horseback, you will have no reason 
to be ashamed if, when they come riding home at night a 
little the worse for wear, they see the pretty picture of a 



KEEP TOUR SELF-RESPECT. 201 

neat little cabin, -with roses in the window, and vines run- 
ning over the door ! 

But brighter than the roses are tlie snapping eyes of 
your children, as they shine when tliey come home from the 
little school-bouse in the woods. They are big with the 
sense of knowing something which " Daddy " did not 
know ; and as they climb upon his knees, and prattle of 
the lessons in spelling and in reading they have learned, 
the old creature's heart swells, half with sadness and half 
with pride, that they have opportunities that were denied 
to him. The most touching picture in the New South is 
that of a former slave, with grizzled head bent fondly over 
his child, listening eagerly as he hears the first words read 
out of the Bible from those tender lips ! 

With such elements of happiness, my poor friend, your 
lot in life is not very hard, even though you should not 
have the honor of voting or being voted for. Take what 
you have, and be thankfiol to God for it, though there may 
be other things which you desire, but do not possess. 

To make your happiness complete, I would that you 
could be lifted up, not with pride, but with genuine, manly 
self-respect. To this end I beg you, do not try to be what 
God never made you to be, and what you cannot be, how- 
ever much you try. The great trouble with the colored 
people of the South, is that they want to be white folks. 
But can the Ethiopian change his skin ? In this fooHsh 
desire to be what they can not be, they lose the opportu- 
nity to be what they can be : to take a position of their 
own, in which they can keep their independence and their 
self-respect. 

Can anything be more childish than to complain that 
we are not treated with proper consideration? I some- 
times hear a good honest colored man say " white folks 
don't treat him 'spectful," by which he means that they 



202 SOCIAL EQUALITY. 

wont have anything to do with him socially. Well, then, 
my good fellow, if I were in your place, I wouldn't have 
an^iihing to do with them. They like to be by themselves, 
and so do you, for you feel a great deal more free, and 
enjoy yourself better ; and if I were in your place, when I 
wanted to have a good time, I wouldn't have any white 
folks around ! 

In this matter of social position, those of the colored 
people who are most woi'thy of respect, have a becoming 
pride, which leads them to hold themselves in a position 
of reserve. One of them writes to me : " As to social 
equality it is a mistake to suppose that the colored people, 
either North or South, have any desire to intrude them- 
selves upon the whites. They have intelligence enough 
to know that social equality is a matter which must be 
regulated entirely by individual j)i'eference." If all had 
this feeling of dignity, there would be no trouble : for, 
as our friend tridy indicates, these are matters regulated 
by an instinctive feeling on the one side and on the other ; 
and the less attempt there is to use force or compulsion 
of any kind, the better. There are things which the law 
cannot do : it cannot change a man's skin ; it cannot 
make him white or black ; nor can it eradicate his natural 
instincts ; so that we need to be careful, in our zeal for 
humanity in general, not to attempt the impossible, nor to 
force a union which nature does not permit. 

Nor should your equanimity be disturbed if white folks 
should have the bad manners to speak of you with an 
affectation of contempt. What if they do ? Hard words 
don't kill anybody. Perhaps they laugh at your efforts to 
lake care of yourself. Never mind ! Only just work a little 
harder, and by-and-by the laugh may be on the other side. 
A man who is a man — whose heart is clean, and whose 
hands are used to toil — can hold his own against the world 1 



THE creator's STAMP ON YOUR BROW. 203 

Now it is very easy to give advice, and to say what we 
would do if we were somebody else ; but I sometimes 
like to think what I wovdd do if I were a black man. 
I would not try to make myself white, nor would I regard 
my color as a degradation. What's in a name ? One of 
the most famous regiments in the English army, is known 
as the Black Watch, as one of its greatest heroes was 
called the Black Prince. Was not the name as honorable 
as if he had been called the White Plume, or any other fancy 
title that might be given to him as a leader of chivalry and 
romance ? The Bible speaks of one who was " black but 
comely." So there are many of a darker skin than ours, 
but of splendid physique, as fine types of manly strength 
and beauty as any that we can show. If I were black, I 
would not ask my Creator to change my skin by a single 
shade. I woiold say, This is the badge of my descent; 
this is the stamp which the fiery sun of Africa has burned 
upon my brow. I accept it as the token by which the 
Creator would distinguish mine among the races of men, 
and I will make it honored in the sight of the world ! 

And so it is being raised up to a place of honor and 
respect. With aU that is dark in the sky above, there is 
light breaking all round the horizon. If your race has 
long seemed to present a dead level of inferiority, there 
are heads cropping up here and there that wiU not be kept 
down. Young men are taking advantage of the oppor- 
tunities for a higher education than that in the common 
schools. At the South there are numerous institutions for 
colored students, such as Lincoln, Howard, and Biddle, 
which are thronged by those eager to obtain the benefits 
of knowledge ; while from Hampton, General Armstrong 
sends out hundreds of lusty fellows, strong of limb, and 
not at all deficient in intelligence, who are both ready to 
work and apt to teach, to be teachers in the schools which 



201 PROGRESS IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION. 

are being establislied eyerywhere in the South for the 
childi-en of their race. At the North, here and there one 
has entered a college, in which all the teachers, and almost 
every one of the pupils, are whites. At the last Com- 
mencement at Williams I saw a black student come on 
the platform with the class, and receive his diploma from 
the hands of the President. Another has graduated at 
Harvard with such honor that he has received a Govern- 
ment appointment in Washing-ton. Another has been 
chosen by the present Senior class as its orator at the 
next Commencement — a very high honor, which, we are 
assured, he owes to no favor or party feeling, but to his 
own indomitable spirit : for it is said that he began by 
working in a barber's shop, to earn money to get an edu- 
cation. This is the stuff that men are made of, and a race 
that produces many such cannot be kept down. 

All this is progress in the right direction. To be sure, 
it may be asked, What are these among the millions to be 
raised up out of the depths of ignorance ? Little indeed ; 
but it is something that there are signs of life stirring in 
the sluggish mass of that vast population. In this new 
exodus from bondage, the emancipated slaves have a long 
road to travel before they reach the Promised Land. But 
it is something to see the head of the column coming up 
out of the wilderness, with their faces turned to the rising 
sun. 

In that column you can be in the front rank, if you are 
worthy of it. My ambition for you is that you should rise to 
a true manhood ; that you shoiild become, not luhite men, 
but MEN, who will respect yourselves, and so compel the 
respect of others. This is not to be gained by selling your 
votes at the polls, or being flattered and cheated by dema- 
gogues, but by the humbler method of tilling the soil, in 
which will grow, not only corn, but every manly virtue. 



A HAPPY DREAMER. 205 

The continual struggle with nature, which developos the 
physical strength, also developes character. He who casts 
his seed in the ground, and hath long patience for it, 
waiting for the early and the latter rain, thereby learns a 
lesson of trust in God ; and so that which is a school of 
industiy, becomes also a school of faith and hope. In 
such lowly places springs up the consummate flower of 
piety. A beloved minister, now dead and gone, used to 
tell me of a parishioner of his, a colored man who was 
very old, but who was never so happy as when working in 
his little garden, singing to himself in a low voice, 

" Dis one ting I find : 

Dat He can't go to glory 
And leave me behind." 

That faith is a light springing up in a dark place. It makes 
the humblest home fuU of peace and bright with hope. 
If any among you be so poor as not to have a roof to 
cover you ; if you have to sleep on the cold ground, and 
rest your head, like Jacob, on a stone, yet even then you 
may, like him, dream a dream in which you shall see a 
ladder reaching from earth to heaven, and the angels of 
God ascending and descending upon it. 

Dream on, weary sleeper ! There is more wisdom in 
your dreams than in the pride of your waking hours. 
Anchor your hopes fast to the throne of God, the begin- 
ning and end of all that is good, and of all our hopes for 
your race and for mankind. "When I think of all the diffi- 
ctdties and perplexities that beset this Eace Problem, the 
prospect is very dark ; the sky is black with clouds ; and 
I am almost in despair, and should be utterly so but for 
my temperament and my faith. But I am an incomgible 
optimist, with a temper that rebounds like a spring from 
the heaviest weight the instant the pressure is withdrawn. 
But this buoyant spirit, however agreeable, would not be 



20(3 STANLEY IN THE FOREST OF THE CONGO. 

very wise, if it had not something to rest upon. That 
something it has, for it rests on the eternal foundations 
I believe in the future, because I believe in God. "When 
all is dark, I turn my eyes upward and see a Power above, 
as I see the sun in heaven ; and seeing that, I believe that 
all the wrongs of ages shaU be made right in the better 
ages to come. 

We have all been reading lately of the wonderful march 
of Stanley across the Dark Continent. Pushing his way 
from sea to sea, he found himself entangled in a forest of 
apparently illimitable extent, which proved by actual meas- 
urement to cover four hundred miles of latitude and as 
many of longitude, so that it was as large as the whole of 
France ! Into this wilderness he plunged without a guide, 
forcing his way through deadly swamps, through thickets 
so dense that every foot of advance had to be cut with an 
axe, and where it was dark even at midday, as trees a hun- 
di'ed, and even two hundred, feet high almost shut out the 
light of heaven. Yet sometimes he had a vision in the 
night that reanimated his courage. Lying on the ground, 
he looked up through the branches of the trees, and saw 
the stars keeping their eternal march. As some great orb 
rose and hung in the deep sky, it seemed as if it were the 
eye of God looking down upon him ; and the faith taught 
in his childhood came back, and he believed that God 
would carry him through. So after more than five 
months, he came out at last on the highlands that over- 
look the clear waters of the Albert Nyanza, one of the 
great lakes of Africa. 

It is not often that human courage has to face such 
difficulty and danger. But there is a wilderness right 
here in our own country more dense and dark and impen- 
etrable, than the Forest of the Congo. It is in the Black 
Belt, with its population of millions. Here is darkness 



BEAR AND FORBEAR TO THE END. 20T 

that may be felt. It is a part of that greater mystery of 
the African race — a mystery which casts its dark shadow, 
like the sun in eclipse, over one-quarter of the globe, and 
one large portion of the human race. How is it that a 
whole Continent shoiild be foredoomed to eternal night, 
and a whole race to misery without measure and without 
end ? Here we are lost in a wilderness so deep and dark 
that we cannot find our way out, but God can lead us out, 
and He will. 

To my colored friends I say. Be of good courage ! I 
do not mean to behttle your hardships ; to make light of 
them as if they did not exist : they do exist. But what- 
ever they may be, bear and forbear even to the end. If 
you have to suffer a thousand humiliations, remember 
that it was by far greater humiliations that the Saviour of 
mankind wrought out the salvation of the world. So the 
salvation of your race is not to be lightly won : it must 
be gained by silent endurance ; by toiling and suffering ; 
by industry, by patience, and by peace. 

And so ends our camp-meeting. If it has seemed to 
you a little long, you can shake off your weariness by 
rising to your feet, and making the woodland arches ring 
with a parting hymn. To you has been given, whatever 
else be denied, the gift of song, by which you touch the 
heart of the world. Those melodies tell the story of youi' 
race, as in theu' plaintive tones are heard the wail of the 
captive and the sighing of the bondman. They strike a 
chord of pain, till through them there breaks a strain of 
hojDc, that swells at last into a song of jubilee. Who that 
has ever been present at a camp-meeting of our colored 
brethren, can forget the multitudinous voices that mingle 
in the mighty Hallelujahs, that make the air to tremble, to 
which we listen enchained till they die away in the depths 
of the forest ? That dying strain is our mutual farewell. 



208 SEEING THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY. 

Here I leave tliis mighty Race Problem, over -whicli I 
have been brooding for months, but which I make no 
pretence to have solved. No man on earth is wise enough 
to solve it. But when we are in darkness, we must grope 
towards the light, and even then the light comes only by 
degrees. One thing I hold to be fixed : that the Problem, 
however difficult, is to be wrought out and to be settled 
here. We are not to get rid of it by shipping off a whole 
people to die miserably on some distant shore. This is 
their home as much as it is ours ; and it is written in the 
book of fate, that the two races are to remain on the same 
soil, inhabitants of the same country, and sharers of the 
same destiny. So it ought to be. The two races are not 
natural enemies : on the contrary, they are indispensable 
to each other ; and as they are the nearest neighbors, they 
ought to be the best friends. 

We have seen that the African race, which we have 
been wont to regard as doomed to inferiority, is capable 
of elevation, and that under the stimulus of education, it 
is steadily rising, so that, even if it should not become the 
equal of our boasted white race, it may yet attain to an 
honorable place among the races of the world. As to the 
social and political antagonisms, which are complicated by 
race antipathies, by jealousies and hatreds, if we cannot 
extinguish them, we can relieve the strain of the situation 
by a strict regard to justice and humanity ; by kindness 
and gentleness. Thus we can soften bitterness, and slowly 
removing obstacles out of the way, may "tiu-n the hearis" 
of the two races towards each other. But when we have 
done all, we have still to confess that there hangs over 
the future a veil through which no human eye can see. 
The final solution must be left to God and to time. 



CHAPTEB XVI. 

THE BATTLE OF FRANKLIN. 

When I left Atlanta, and turned northward, it was 
delightful to feel that, at last, after two months absence, I 
was homeward bound. My friend, Mr. Cunningham, who 
had met me on my way South at Chattanooga, now met 
me again, and accompanied me to NashviUe. Our last 
day together had been on Lookout Moiintain, and now we 
were to pass over other historic scenes. Middle Tennes- 
see is full of war memories. Here is the field of Mur- 
freesboro, which tells its story silently in thirty thousand 
graves. As we approach Nashville, the crumbling remains 
of old earthworks that once girdled the city, remind us 
how two great armies were once camped on these hOls. 
But just now my eyes were turned in another quarter, 
to the town of FrankUn, a few miles south of Nashville, 
that had been the scene of a battle near the close of the 
war, which, though less in the number of those engaged 
than some others, was contested with the most desperate 
courage on both sides, and was one of the most important 
in its results to the Union cause. In this battle Mr. Cun- 
ningham had borne a part as a Confederate soldier, and 
he had told me so much about it, with such details aa 



210 VISIT TO FRANKLIN. 

brought it all Tividly before me, that I bad it in raind, if I 
came this way again, to pay a visit to the historic ground, 
that from a study of its geography, and of the position 
of the contending armies, I might be able to appreciate 
the tremendous conflict, and do full justice to the brave 
men on both sides who perished in it. 

Accordingly we fixed a day for the visit, when he brought 
a fi'iend, Major Vaulx (pronovmced Voss), who was Inspec- 
tor-General to Cheatham's Division, which bore a leading 
part in the battle. Franklin is but eighteen miles from 
Nashville, and a half hour's ride brought us to the sta- 
tion. As we entered the town, we had the good fortune 
to meet Col. McEwen, an old resident, who was here when 
the battle was fought, and from his front door witnessed 
it all, and who now kindly consented to accompany us 
over the field, and give us the benefit of his personal ob- 
servations. Later we had also Mr. Carter, whose house 
was such a centre of fire from both sides, that he and his 
family fled to the cellar for safety. Of these four persons, 
three were eyewitnesses of the battle ; and the foui-th, if 
he did not see so much, it was only because the roar of 
conflict was going on over his head ; but as soon as the 
battle was ended, he had the fullest oi^portunity to visit 
the field while it was yet covered with the dead and 
wounded, and his observations will come in in the proper 
place. 

As the points to be visited were at some distance from 
each other, my first step was to engage a carriage with 
two horses, with a negro following on an extra horse in 
case any of our party preferred to make his observations 
from the saddle. Thus provided with the best of guides, 
we set out on our morning's ride, driving directly to the 
line of entrenchment, along which General Schofield, who 
commanded the Union army, drew up his line of battle. 



THE CRISIS OF THE WAR. 211 

To make the description intelligible, we must recall the 
general position of the armies in the South in the Fall of 
1864. That was the crisis of the war. While Lee held 
Richmond, he could do nothing to sustain the fortunes of 
the Confederacy in any other part of the field, lest he 
should leave the Capital to his vigilant and powerful 
enemy. Hence the active campaign was transferred to 
the farther South, where Sherman in a series of battles 
had pushed Johnston back to Atlanta — a movement which 
created such alarm that he was removed, and the com- 
mand given to Gen. Hood, who had shown his courage on 
many fields, having lost an aiTa at Gettysburg and a leg 
at Chickamauga, but who in his mutilated body still car- 
ried the heart of a lion. He inaugurated his campaign by 
a new system of tactics. Instead of manceuvering and 
retreating, he believed that battles were to be gained by 
hard fighting, and at once took the offensive, and fought 
three bloody battles, but could not save Atlanta from sur- 
render. Failing to shake the hold of his adversary by 
direct attack, he undertook a movement in the rear. 
Leaving Sherman in Atlanta, he crossed the Chattahoochee 
with an army of more than forty thousand men, and 
struck into Tennessee, intending to cut his adversary's 
communications, and thus compel him to retreat in self- 
defence. It was a brilliant plan of campaign, and might 
have been successful if the Confederate leader had not 
been dealing with a waiy old soldier. But Sherman was 
then planning his march to the sea, and did not mean to 
be diverted fi-om it. That was a bold stroke, but not 
without its danger, for the farther he got away, the more 
he left the enemy fi-ee to sweep the country ; and so it 
might have been that while Sherman was marching 
through Georgia to the sea, Hood should be marching 
through Tennessee and Kentucky to the Ohio ! The let- 



212 GENERAL SOHOFIELD. 

ters of Grant written at tlie time, show that he was full of 
anxiety as to the result. 

To guard against the danger from that quarter, it was 
necessary that Sherman should leave in his rear a suffi- 
cient force to deal with such a movement. Accordingly, 
Thomas was left in command at Nashville, and Schofield * 

* If proof were needed of the great value of institutions for 
the training of officers who are to be at the head of armies, it 
would be afforded by the late Civil "War, in which the same 
Military Academy furnished the leaders on both sides. In the 
battle that is here described, the opposing commanders were 
not only both graduates of West Point, but members of the same 
class, entering on the same dap, and had spent four years together, 
little dreaming that they should ever be arrayed against each 
other in the field. 

General John McAllister Schofield is a son of the State of 
New York, having been born in Chautauqua county, Sept. 29, 
1829. He graduated at West Point in 1853 — when General 
Eobert E. Lee (then only a Captain of Engineers, though a 
Colonel by brevet for his services in the Mexican War) was 
Superintendent, and General George H. Thomas Instructor of 
Artillery and Cavalry — in the same class with General Hood, and 
also with General McPherson and General Sheridan ; while in 
the next class were 0. O. Howard and Thomas H. Euger, after- 
wards Generals in the Union Army, and on the Confederate side 
Generals G. W. Custis Lee, John Pegram, J. E. B. Stuart, the 
famous cavalry officer, and Stephen D. Lee, who commanded a 
corps at Franklin. On his graduation, Schofield was assigned to 
the Second Artillery, and yet such was his standing as a student 
that for five years he was retained at West Point as Instructor 
in Natural Philosophy ; and then obtained leave of absence from 
the army, that he might go to St. Louis, and there fill the same 
chair in Washington University. But at the breaking out of the 
war, he returned to the army with the rank of Captain, and was 
almost immediately promoted to be Major of the First Missouri 
infantry. He subsequently became chief-of-staff to Gen. Lyon. 
In November, 1861, he had been promoted to be brigadier-general, 
and was assigned to the command of the Missouri militia, and in 
April, 1862, became commander of the district of Missouri. In 



HOOD CROSSES THE DUCK RIVER. 218 

was sent witli two corps to his support. But even with 
this reinforcement, Thomas did not feel strong enough to 
deal the crushing blow which he afterwards gave in the 
battle of Nashville, and so sent Schofield as far south as 
Pulaski, a distance of eighty miles, to keep watch of Hood, 
falling back as he advanced, and thus check his march 
northward. At Columbia the two armies were separated 
only by a river, which furnished an excellent Hne of de- 
fence against the pursuer, if he should try to force a cross- 
ing at that point. But instead of this. Hood moved east 
to a ford five or six miles above, from which Schofield 
at first supposed that ho would turn along the north bank 
of the river, and attack him in his position ; but he soon 
learned that, instead of this, his antagonist had struck 
northwest towards Spring Hill, the point where the road 
by which he was marching, would strike the main road 
from Columbia to Frankhn. The object of this movement 
was plain : it was to place Hood between Schofield and 
Thomas, who was at Nashville, and thus cut the Union 
army in two. This would give him an opportunity to fight 

the Fall of 1862 he was given command of the frontier, including 
the Kansas as well as Missouri troops. He was made a major- 
general of volunteers Nov. 29, 1862, and after distinguished 
services in different fields (especially in the campaign of General 
Sherman against General Joseph E. Johnston in the Summer 
and Autumn of 1864, which ended in the capture of Atlanta, and 
in the Battle of Franklin), he was breveted a major-general in 
the regular army. In July, 1867, he was appointed to the com- 
mand of the first military district. In 1868 he was Secretary of 
War. The following year he was assigned to the command of 
the Department of tho Missouri, and was made a full major- 
general. "When General Hancock died he was assigned to the 
command of the Division of the Atlantic. Since the death of 
General Sheridan, he is the senior officer In the national service, 
ranking as General of the United States Army, and has his head- 
quarters in Washington. 



214 MOVEMENT TO CUT OFF RETREAT. 

them separately, and to gain a victory over both. If he 
could only reach the road before troops could be sent to 
head him off ; or while they were defiling along it ; he would 
have his adversary at a terrible disadvantage, and attacking 
him in the flank, might strike a fatal blow, and tlierefore he 
gave orders that, as soon as the head of the army reached 
Spring Hill, it should begin an immediate attack — an 
order the execution of which was committed to General 
Cheatham, one of the bravest and most trusted leaders of 
the Southern army ; and to the fact that this commander 
did not make the attack, and that the Federal Army was 
able to pass undisturbed. Hood ascribes the loss of his 
opportunity to win a great, and perhaps decisive, victory. 
In his volume entitled "Advance and Reteeat," which now 
lies before me, he gives a fuU history of the campaign, and 
dwells at great length on this failure, which seems to have 
been the sore point of his whole military career. He says 
that he led the army in person to within two miles of the 
Columbia turnpike, " where, sitting upon my horse, I had 
in sight the enemy's waggons and men passing at double- 
quick along the Franklin pike"; and said to Cheatham, 
" General, do you see the enemy there, marching rapidly 
to escape us ? " and ordered him at once to push on and 
seize the road and hold it. What was his amazement and 
indignation, an hour later, when, as "twilight was upon 
them," Cheatham rode up, not having executed his com- 
mand, and Hood "exclaimed with deep emotion," "Gen- 
eral, why in the name of God have you not attacked the 
enemy, and taken possession of that ]i\^e ? " to which 
Cheatham replied that " the line looked a little too long 
for him, and that Stewart should first form on his right." 
This was his unpardonable crime. The brave soldier had 
failed in the hour of need, and to his dying day he suffered 
from the imputation of culpable negligence ! 



THE OTHER SIDE OF THE STORY. 215 

This is one side of the story, which is very good until 
you hear the other. But the friends of General Cheatham 
by no means admit its truth, but reply with much indig- 
nation that it was merely an attempt to throw on him the 
blame which should have been assumed by quite a differ- 
ent person ; and they think it due to the good name of 
the brave old soldier, now that he is sleeping in his grave, 
that this unjust imj)utation should be removed. Major 
Vaulx writes to me fi-om Nashville, as an eye-witness of 
that which he describes, that the responsibility for not 
attacking Spring Hill (if it was a fault, which he seems to 
doubt) should rest not on Cheatham, but on the Com- 
mander-in-Chief. He says : 

"Cheatham's corps was in advance on the march. As it 
approached Spring Hill, he was ordered by Gen. Hood to form it 
in line of battle in front of the Federal army, which was already 
in position — an order which he promptly obeyed, forming it 
from left to right as each division came up : Bate on the left, 
Cleburne in the centre, and John C. Brown (who commanded 
Cheatham's old division) on the right. As Brown was the last 
to arrive, Cheatham pointed out his place to the right of 
Cleburne, and then gave him orders, as soon as his division was 
formed in two lines, to move his right brigade forward and 
attack the Federals, who were posted south and west of Spring 
Hill, with their line curved round on the east side of the town. 
Cheatham told Brown that he would order Cleburne to attack on 
hearing his guns ; and that as soon as Cleburne became engaged, 
he would order Bate also to advance. "With this Cheatham 
turned and rode back to give the order to Bate, expecting every 
moment to hear the signal from behind that the battle was 
begun, and kept asking impatientlj', ' Why don't we hear Brown's 
guns ? ' The reason was soon explained. 

""While Brown was forming his division. General Strahl, who 
commanded his right brigade, reported to him that he had dis- 
covered a line of Federal infantry on a wooded hill, in such a 
position that the moment he (Strahl) swung forward to the 
attack, he would be exposed to a fire both on the flank and in 
the rear. On hearing this. Brown went to Strahl, who pointed 



216 A CRUEL IMPUTATrON. 

out to him the position of the Federal line, and seeing it, sent 
two staff officers to report the situation to Cheatham, who, not 
hearing the guns, had said to his staff, ' Let us go and see what 
is the matter ! ' On the way to Brown, he met the officer who 
was coming to report the situation on the right, and hearing it, 
said ' Go with me, and report to Gen. Hood Just what you have 
said to me,' which being done. Gen. Hood replied to Cheatham, 
' If that is the case, do not attack, but order your troops to hold 
the position they are in for the night.' " [This explanation will 
be clearly understood by reference to the map.] 

Such, according to Major Vaiilx, is the true explanation 
of the reason why General Cheatham did not attack Stan- 
ley at Spring Hill. It was from no lack of courage, but 
because of the darkness coming on, and the bold front 
of the enemy. Another account indicates that, with all 
the rage that Hood showed afterward at his lost opportu- 
nity, he had himself an access of irresolution. Gen. Bate 
reports that on that night he had occasion to go to the 
headquarters, which were about two miles back from the 
road, and there found Hood in consultation with General 
Forrest, at the conclusion of which he turned to Bate and 
said that no movement would be undertaken that night : 
for that Forrest had just reported to him that he could 
easily seize and hold the pike at a point above Spring Hill, 
which would prevent the passage of Schofield, so that in 
the morning " they would bag the whole Federal army " ! 

While thus vindicating the good name of his old 
fiiend, the Major takes occasion to stamp out another 
cruel story which has been permitted to float about in 
different quarters. As if the imputation of unmilitary 
conduct in disobedience of orders, were not enough, the 
charge is made still more odious by the explanation given 
of this culpable neglect, viz : that General Cheatham was 
grossly intoxicated ! This I myself have heard stated, not 
as a mere rumor, an idle report, but as something which 



MARCH TO SPRING HILL. 



m 




FROM COLUMBIA TO SPRING HILL. 



218 CHEATHAM VINDICATED. 

"everybody knew" in tlie army. To this Major Vaulx 
g^ves a peremptory denial. He says : 

"I was with Gen. Cheatham when he was giving his orders 
to Gen. Brown. The charge that he was intoxicated is false. I 
never saw him more self-possessed than on that afternoon. He 
gave his orders in a very plain and explicit manner. His words 
expressed just what he wanted, and in such a manner that no 
doubtful construction could be given them." 

To the same effect, ex-Governor Porter of Tennessee writes : 
" I was with Cheatham during the entire day from Columbia 
to Spring Hill, and he was not only not intoxicated, but I am 
positive that he did not taste nor see 'a drop of liquor of any 
kind." 

The injustice of a Commander-in-Chief throwing upon 
a subordinate a responsibility which he should take upon 
himself, is answered by the Major with this telling remark : 

^'General Hood was himself on the field, but a few hundred 
yards from Cheatham's line, and if he felt that his orders were 
not being obeyed, he could have ridden to the front in five 
minutes, and in person ordered the charge which he blames 
Cheatham for not maliing." 

[The whole subject is very fully treated in a paper read before 
the Southern Historical Society at Louisville by Major D. "W. 
Saunders, who served upon the staffs of Generals Pegram and 
Walthall. Its vindication of Gen. Cheatham is complete.] 

Major Vaulx adds these further particulars : 

"Gen. Edward K. Johnson's Division was detached from 
Stephen D. Lee's Corps, then at Columbia, and arrived in front 
of Spring Hill after dark. Gen. Johnson was ordered by Hood 
to report to Cheatham, and Hood ordered Cheatham to have 
Johnson placed in position to command the turnpike road run- 
ning from Columbia to Spring Hill. Gen. Cheatham sent his 
Staff OflScer, Major Joseph Bostick, to order Gen. Johnson to 
take such a position (Johnson had gone into bivouac). Upon 
getting this order, Johnson vehemently objected to undertaking 
this movement in the dark ; said he could not do it, as he had no 
idea of the country, or the position of the other troops ; that he 
had reached the ground after dark, and knew nothing about 
directions; and if he went to moving about in the dark, he 



HOOD IN A RAGE. 219 

■would be liable to run into some of our own troops, and they 
would fire into each other. Major Bostick suggested that he 
could show Gen. Johnson where the turnpike was, and point out 
where our lines were posted ; but Johnson said he could not, 
and was not willing to undertake such a movement in the dark, 
ignorant as he was of the country and all surroundings. It was 
then suggested by Major Bostick that he had no decision in the 
matter, but that Gen. Johnson might give orders to his command 
to prepare to move, and then go himself to Gen. Cheatham, and 
lay the case before him, which he did, and impressed it upon 
Gen. Cheatham that he could not undertake the move intelli- 
gently or safely." 

But the next morning, when Hood found that the great 
opportunity had been lost, he was unwilling to bear the 
reproach of its being due to any want of energy on his 
own part. Major Vaulx told me of a conversation which 
he had with General Brown as they were riding side by 
side, in which the latter said : 

"General Hood is mad about the enemy getting away last 
night, and he is going to charge the blame of it on somebody. 
He is as wrathy as a rattlesnake this morning, striking at every- 
thing. As he passed along to the front a while ago, he rode up 
to me and said : ' Gen. Brown, in the movement to-day I wish 
you to bear in mind this military principle : That when a pursu- 
ing army comes up with a retreating enemy, he must be immedi- 
ately attacked. If you have a brigade in front as advance guard, 
order its commander to attack the enemy as soon as he comes 
up with him ; if you have a regiment in advance, and it comes 
up with the enemy, give the colonel orders to attack him; if 
there is but a company in advance, and it overtakes the entire 
Yankee army, order the captain to attack it forthwith ; and if 
anything blocks the road in front of you to-day, don't stop a 
minute, but turn out into the fields or woods, and move on to 
the front '." 

Aside from this Confederate testimony, it argues a cer- 
tain simplicity in the commander of an army to assume 
that, while he is wide awake and urging on his soldiers, 
the opposing commander is not equally vigilant and equally 



220 PERFECT CONCERT IN THE FEDERAL ARMY. 

determined. Tlie whole argiiment of Hood seems to imply 
that the Union commander was quite unjDrepared, whereas 
General Schofield had had his eyes open all the time to 
the possibility of such a flank movement, and as soon 
as the cavalry reported that the enemy were crossing the 
river, he at once desj)atched General Stanley with a divis- 
ion comjmsing three brigades and all the reserve artillery 
of the Fourth Corj)s to Spring Hill, with orders to throw 
up intrenchments and hold the position. 

As these bickerings between Gen, Hood and his corps 
and division commanders contributed so much to defeat 
the Confederate army, they suggest by contrast the opposite 
state of things in the Federal camp, where General Scho- 
field was sui^ported by Generals Stanley and Cox, on whom 
he relied with the absolute confidence that one brave man 
gives to another. The situation was critical. The Union 
army was threatened on two sides : by the flanking move- 
ment directed towards Spring Hill, and at the same time 
by the persistent attempt to force a passage of the river 
at Columbia, where the attack was kept up without inter- 
mission. Had Schofield withdrawn his whole force, the 
Confederates would have immediately crossed with all 
their heavy artillery, which could have been transj^orted 
rapidly over the hard, macadamized tiu-npike. Against 
both these movements, aimed at j)oints ten miles apart, 
he had to be equally j)repared. As has been well said, 
"He must hold back his enemy at Columbia with one 
hand, and feud off the blow at Spring Hill with the other." 
So while Stanley marched with aU speed to Spring Hill, 
Cox was ordered to hold on to the last moment at Colum- 
bia, to prevent the enemy crossing the river. It was to 
the admirable manner in which hoth these orders were 
carried out, that was due the success of this and the fol- 
lowing day. 



CALCULATING THE CHANCES. 221 

To return to General Schofield : having anticipated the 
flank movement of the enemy, he calculated the chances. 
This he did, reasoning from his personal knowledge of the 
General pitted against him. He and Hood had been class- 
mates at West Point, and he knew that, while a braver 
man never lived, his mind was not exact. At West Point 
he had no standing in mathematics ; he did not calculate 
distances nor impediments ; and he had no idea of the value 
of time. This he proved to-day : for while he and Stanley 
were aiming for the same point, and he had the staii;, 
Stanley got there before him. True, the latter had the 
advantage of a smooth, hard turnpike, while the former 
had to move by a country road, in which his artillery and 
baggage waggons would sink deep at every step. I say 
would, for in fact the baggage trains had been left behind 
at the river, and the artillery also, except a few light guns. 
Thus the army was stripped for a forced march. Can any 
one doubt that, if Stonewall Jackson had been in com- 
mand, even though his men might have been barefoot, 
ragged, and sore, he would have carried them, dead or 
alive, to the point where the fate of the contest was to 
be decided ? But Hood, as he tells the story himself, did 
not come in sight of the turnpike tiU three o'clock, when 
he was still two miles away, and then only to see " the 
enemy's waggons and men " streaming along the road of 
which he had been so eager to get possession ! General J. 
D. Cox in his History * states that the division of Stanley 

* This little volume, one of a series published by the Scrib- 
ners, entitled "Campaigns of the Civil Wab," is the clearest 
account I have found anywhere of the battle of Franklin, and of 
the campaign of which it was a part. General Cox is one of the 
men who rank high both in military and in civil life. Since the 
war he has been Governor of Ohio and a Member of the Cabinet. 
His book is written not at all in the style of a partisan, but in 



222 STANLEY AT SPRING HILL. 

reached Spring Hill at noon, just in time to prevent its 
being seized by a party of cavalry. Thus he was fully 
three hom*s in advance of Hood. Those three hours saved 
the Union army. In that time the division had thro wn up 
earthworks around the little town, and was preparing for 
an attack. If Hood was two miles away at three o'clock, 
soldiers can make the calculation how long it would take 
to move a large body of troops over that distance, and get 
it into line of battle. Still it is true that the head of 
the army approached the turnpike before sunset, within 
gunshot of the Federal troops, and opened fire, which was 
so vigorously returned that they found, to their surprise, 
that they were in the presence of an enemy that was well 
prepared for their reception. 

The truth is that, although Hood tried afterwards to 
belittle the force in possession of Spring Hill, in order to 
throw the blame of his failure uj^on Cheatham, that vital 
point was held too fii'mly to be shaken. Stanley was a 
dangerous man to attack at any time, especially at the 
head of five thousand of those Western troops that had 
fought so splendidly in the Atlanta campaign. To add to 
his strength, all the reserve artillery of the Fomth Corps 
had been sent forward in advance, which enabled him to 
put thirty pieces in position : so that when Cleburne, the 
most dashing division commander in the Southern army, 
who led the advance, moving forward in obedience to 
Hood's orders, began the attack, he was received with 
such a tremendous shock that, brave as he was, he di-ew 
off and sent back for reinforcements ; but before they could 
come ujD and be put in line of battle, night feU and pre- 

the spirit of fairness and candor. As he took part in all the 
movements preceding the battle, and was in command on the 
lino that bore the brunt of the battle, there can be no ques- 
tioning facts that passed under hi-s personal observation. 



IN" SIGHT OF THE CAMP-FIRES. 223 

vented furtlier operatioBS. Thus it was that a large part of 
the Confederate army was camped within sight of the road 
along which the Union army was moving. Schofield found 
them there when he came up, and just after dark he walked 
to a slight ridge in front of his lines, and looked straight 
into their camp-fires. They could have thrown themselves 
upon his line of march, but it would have been a fight in 
the dark, with a result by no means so certain as they 
seemed to suppose.* 

As night came on, the troops under Cox were ordered 
to withdraw fi'om before Columbia in detachments, leaving 

* If further light be needed on the disputed questions in regard to 
the incidents of the day before the battle of Franklin, it may be found 
in a very full and detailed narrative by Thomas Speed, Esq., of 
Louisville, Kentucky, who, as Adjutant of a Kentucky regiment in 
the Twenty-third Corps, took part in the battle, and who gives us, 
not only his personal observations, but the result of a careful study 
of the Confederate reports, all of which lead him to the conclusion 
that Hood found that to make that night attack, of which he after- 
wards talked as so easy to be made, would have been a pretty seri- 
ous business. The paper was prepared to be read before the Ohio 
Commandery of the Loyal Legion, and is published in their Histori- 
cal Transactions. 

In a private letter Mr. Speed gives the testimony of an officer 
who was at Spring Hill, as to the preparations that had been made 
for an attack. He says : "A few years since General Cheatham came 
to Louisville to address his old companions-in-arms on this very 
campaign (an address that was listened to with equal interest by 
those who fought on both sides), in which he explained why he could 
not reach the turnpike that memorable night. On the platform sat 
General Walter Whittaker, a gallant Kentuekian, who commanded a 
brigade under General Stanley. As we left the hall, he came up to 
me and said in his characteristic way : ' Yes, the reason he didn't get 
thar was because he couldn't. I was thar myself— I was thar with 
seven regiments ' ! " The explanation appears to be quite sufficient. 



224 IN A VERY TIGHT PLACE. 

till the very last a force sufficient to prevent the enemy 
crossing. The rear-guard did not leave till after mid- 
night. There was no moon, but the stars were shining 
brightly ; and the old soldiers, elated to be once more in 
motion, swung along the road rapidly. Three hoiirs of 
this steady march brought them near Spring Hill, and as 
they caught sight of camp-fires in the distance, they began 
to cheer at the prospect of hot coflfee and a night's rest. 
But the cheer had hardly been heard before it was silenc- 
ed : as an officer at the head of the column put his finger 
to his lips, and whispered " Hist ! " — a warning that passed 
quickly along the line, and hushed every voice : for those 
camp-fires were not surroimded by the boys in blue, but 
by those who, at the least alarm, would have seized the 
guns that were stacked at the edge of the woods, and fired 
into the crowded column that was moving along the high- 
way : though, if the attack had been made, it would not 
have found the column unprepared : for even while on 
the march, it was kept ready for battle. *' The divisions 
were all moving by the left flank, so that when they shovJd 
halt and face, they would be in line of battle, and coidd 
use the road fences for barricades, if attacked. By this 
arrangement there was the least risk of confusion, and 
the greatest readiness for any contingency which might 
arise." But while the position had these advantages, the 
General could but feel that it was one of great exj)osure 
and of great danger. He never passed a night of greater 
anxiety. "When it was aU over, he telegraphed to Thomas: 
"I don't want to get into so tight a place again." 

But just now he was in "the tight place," and it re- 
quired the utmost promptness and skill to get out of it. 
The decision with which he acted showed that he had 
the resoiu'ces of a soldier fitted for high command. He 
seemed to be present at every exposed j)oint. Cox says, 



A COMMANDER WITHOUT ORDERS. 225 

"On bearing from Stanley that lie was attacked by 
infantry, Schofield hastened to Ruger's division, which 
was nearest to Spring Hill, and led its two brigades in 
person by a rapid march to Stanley's support." Again, 
" Learning that some force of the enemy was at Thomp- 
son's Station [three miles beyond], he immediately march- 
ed with a division to that point, to open the way to 
Frankhn." He retarrned to Spring Hill at midnight. 

To add to his perplexities, he was without orders, and 
wholly ignorant of what the rest of the Federal army 
might be doing. It had been understood that as soon as 
General A. J. Smith, with his corps from IVIissoiu'i, arrived 
in Nashville, he shovdd push southward to Schofield's sup- 
port. But whether this movement had been executed, the 
latter did not know, for he had received no recent com 
munication from Gen. Thomas. Surrounded as they were 
by enemies, of course they could not telegraph to each 
other except by cipher — a cipher which they themselves 
did not understand : for IVIr. Stanton (knowing how often 
important secrets leak out through the treachery of some 
one who may be a trusted agent, and in the very tent of 
a commanding officer) had, with an excess of caution, 
issued an order that the cipher should be known only to 
certain telegraph operators sent from the War Office in 
Washington ; so that in one case Schofield received a 
message which no one in camp could interpret, and 
remained ignorant of its contents for forty-eight hours! 
So he heard nothing from Thomas, and knew nothing of 
the movements of Smith. But in the evening a train had 
come in, the conductor of which said that as he passed 
Franklin, he thought he saw troops there ; but as it was 
after dark when he came through, he could not be posi- 
tive. At once an officer was despatched with all speed to 
Franklin, to bring positive information ; and if he found 



22G THE NIGHT MARCH. 

General Smith, to order him (for he would have been 
under Schofield's command) to push on instantly to join 
him for the battle that must be fought at daybreak. But 
ruturning to the conductor, and questioning him more 
closely, the General felt that his information was too 
uncertain for him to rely upon, and at midnight he gave 
orders for the whole army to push on to Franklin. 

In this foi'ward movement the troops which had just 
come from Columbia led the way, the two wings of the 
army reversing their positions : Stanley, who had marched 
to Spring Hill in the morning, remaining where he stood ; 
while the Twenty-third Corps, that had been keeping back 
the enemy at the river, as it now came up the road, filed 
behind the Fom-th Corps, and passed to the fi'ont. Gen. 
Stanley, who had had the honor of leading the advance, 
now had the honor of guarding the rear — a position which 
might bring upon him the whole of Hood's army, but 
which he held tiU all of the Twenty-third Corps had passed, 
when silently regiment after regiment formed in column, 
and followed. 

That night march will never be forgotten by those who 
were in it, or those who saw it ; for it was in full view of 
the camp-fii'es of the enemy. If the army had marched in 
single column, with its baggage trains, it would have ex- 
tended fourteen miles I This was shortened one-half by 
doubling up, for which there was room on the turnpike, so 
that the baggage train was kej^t in motion, with a column 
of troops marching at its side, ready for attack. The 
cavaky under Forrest were hovering along the line, trying 
to strike a blow. Cox says, " Forrest's troopers made an 
occasional dash at the long waggon train, but only in one 
or two instances did they succeed in reaching it"; and yet 
Hood says (as if he wished to emphasize the difference 
between this dashing cavalry officer and Cheatham), 



ARRIVAL IN FRANKLIN. 221 

"Forrest gallantly opposed the enemy to the full extent 
of his power." If so, it is a wonder that he did not 
accomplish more. Perhaps the explanation is that, as an 
old officer once told me, "cavaby do not like to attack 
infantry in the dark. The long roll of musketry empties 
the saddles and the horses rush about in confusion." And 
so it is not surprising that, in spite of such "dashes" here 
and there, the column continued its march. The night 
seemed very long, but the tramp never ceased till the 
troops halted in the outskirts of FrankUn. The advance 
arrived before daybreak, and the officers who led the way 
rode up to the Carter House (the fii'st that they came to), 
and woke up the old man, the father of the Colonel, who 
showed us over the battlefield (who had been in the 
Confederate army, and was then at home on parole), and 
politely informed him that they would take possession of his 
house as their headquarters, to which, knowing the usages 
of war, he did not object. One who was in that group 
says : " While sitting out in front of the house, waiting 
for the head of the column to arrive, ever}i;hing was as still 
as the grave, and there was time to ponder on what the 
day would bring forth. Few anticipated the dreadful and 
bloody outcome, but rather looked for another flank move- 
ment, as at Columbia. Presently the tramp of horses in 
the distance, and the rattle of tin cups against bayonets, 
told us that the troops were coming." * As they came up, 

*ror this and many touches which give vividness to the picture, 
I am indebted to a most spirited accoimt of the battle, and of the 
campaign of which it was a part, entitled "The Eetretit from Pulaski 
to Nashville," a paper read before the Ohio Commandery of the Mili- 
tary Order of the Loyal Legion of the United States, December 1st, 
1836, by Companion Levi T. Scofield, late Captain U. S. Volunteers. 
(Published by H. C. Sherick & Co., Cincinnati.) It is written in the 
style of a soldier, with all the fire of one who describes scenes in 



228 A CRITICAL SITUATION. 

they were turned to the right and left of the road, that the 
trains might pass through into the town. General Scho- 
field at once pressed on to the river, where he had hoped 
to find the bridges standing, and pontoons, for which he 
had sent urgent messages to Thomas, ready to lay others, 
to pass over the artillery and baggage waggons. Instead 
of this, he found that the bridge connecting with the 
tiirnpike had been swept away, and that there was not a 
single pontoon with which to construct another. All that 
remained was the railroad bridge, which had to be planked 
to make it passable for waggons, and even then furnished 
but a slender resource for the i^assage of an army. Find- 
ing this condition, he returned to the front in a state of 
great anxiety. Thorough soldier as he was, he took the 
chances of war as they came, but for once he was taken 
aback at the unexpected position in which he was i^laced. 
"I never saw him," said General Cox, "so disturbed," 
as he now contemi^lated the probability, which a soldier 
dreads, of having to fight a battle with his back to a river, 
when a disaster is likely to prove fatal. [The orders of 
Hood were to " drive them into the river " !] But it was no 
time for idle regrets. Gen. Cox was placed in command 
of the two divisions of the Twenty -third Corps, his own and 
Gen. Ruger's, and ordered to entrench strongly on a line 
running to the right and left of the turnpike. This was 
a new task for the soldiers, weary as they were with their 
all night's march, covering a distance of twenty-three miles. 
They were almost dead with fatigue, but not a moment 
was to be lost. As soon as they had snatched a hasty 
breakfast, they were set to work with spades and shovels, 

■which he was an actor ; and yet, we are informed on the best author- 
ity, that it is as accurate in its details as it is picturesque. It is these 
old soldiers who tell what they have seen, who furnish the most 
authentic materials of history. 



DISPOSITION OF THE TROOPS. 229 

and in two or tliree hours had dug a ditch a mile and 
a half in length, throwing up the earth on the inside to 
make a breastwork (to which some added a log on the 
crest, raised three inches to leave space for their rifles), 
along which at inteiTals there were openings for the bat- 
teries ; all which being done, they threw themselves upon 
the ground for a sleep which to many of them was to be 
their last. 

General Schofield too was glad of a short interval of 
rest. For several days and nights he had had little sleep, 
except such as he got in the saddle. On the march he 
could clasp his hands round the pommel, and for a few 
minutes relapse into a state of forgetfulness, which, if not 
so refreshing as rest in a quiet bed or by the camp-fire, at 
least kept him from the point of utter exhaustion. So 
when the position had been made secure, he went to the 
house of a good Union woman (it was pointed out to us as 
we rode through the street), and threw himself on a bed 
and fell asleep, and rested for an hour and a half, till he 
was awakened for orders. 

All the forenoon the troops came pouring in, the last 
to arrive being those that had remained at Spring HiU. 
The Confederate army was but a few miles behind, some- 
times approaching nearer, when the Federal rear-guard 
turned at bay, and showed such a grim front, with its 
batteries ranged so as to sweep the road, that its pursuers 
kept at a respectful distance. It was not till a few hours 
later that they were to come to close quarters. As the 
different divisions reached Franklin, there was another 
reversal of positions ; for as those that arrived in the 
morning were now entrenched, they remained in their 
works ; while the Fourth Corps under Gen. Stanley, which 
consisted of three divisions, was thus distributed : that of 
Kimball was placed at the extreme right of the line ; that 



230 HOOD DECIDES TO ATTACK. 

of Wagner was cut in two (two brigades being stationed 
outside of the works where they met a hard fate ; while a 
third brigade, under Colonel Opdycke, was brought within 
the lines, and placed in the rear as a reserve ; and, as we 
shall see, made one of the most brilliant charges of the 
day); while AVood's division marched through the town, and 
took its place on the other side of the river, where Stanley 
joined Schofield, and remained with him tiU the afternoon, 
as both fully expected that the attack of Hood's army 
would be aimed in that quarter rather than in front. The 
disposition of the troops is indicated on the map of Frank- 
lin, that I have copied, from General Cox's History. From 
this it will be seen that the position of the town is well 
fitted for defence, as it is surrounded on three sides by 
a river, and is open only on one. Across this open front, 
swelling out into a projecting curve, was drawn the line of 
entrenchments, to one end of which, near the railway, we 
had first driven to get a general view of the field. 

From that j^oint we had pushed on two and a half miles 
out of town over the Columbia turnj)ike, till we came to 
where the road passes over high ground between two hills. 
Here, leaving our horses in charge of our black rider, we 
ascended a hill on which were a few scattered trees, on the 
brow of which stood an old linden, tall and gaunt, with its 
naked arms lifted against the sky. " Here," said Mi-. Cun- 
ningham, " on the day of the battle, I saw General Hood 
ride forward alone on his horse, and halting near this 
tree, take out his field-glass, and gaze long and earnestly 
across the plain at the j)osition of the enemy. All who 
were in sight of him watched him with eager eyes, for 
on the decision of that moment depended the fate of thou- 
sands. Presently he turned back to General Stewart, to 
whom I heard him say, ' We will make the fight ! ' and 
who received his extended hand with a sadness, which 



FORMING m LINE OF BATTLE. 231 

seemed to say, ' We may not meet again ! ' The die was 
cast. The order was instantly given to the troops, who, 
as they came over the hill, deployed, stretching out to the 
right and left, and forming in line of battle. On the 
opposite hill a military band had taken its position, and 
played some stirring Southern airs as the brave men 
marched down into the vaUey, which was to be to thou- 
sands of them the valley of death. The whole scene was 
the most thrilling that I ever saw in war." 

It was now the middle of the afternoon, and it took an 
hour for the army to defile into position. This hour, as 
may be supposed, was one of intense, though suppressed, 
excitement. We hear much of the noise of battle, but the 
stillness which precedes it is not less awful, as column after 
column, with measured step, takes its place in the ranks of 
death. It is the stilhiess which precedes the tempest, as 
thunder clouds gather darkly but silently. It is not till 
they touch each other that the storm bursts. 

As the Confederate lines thus formed in front, General 
Hood rode forward to a hiU, fi-om which he could have a 
nearer view, so as to watch every movement, and be in 
position at once to receive reports and to give orders; 
while across the plain, on another hill overlooking the same 
scene, stood General Schofield, giving quick glances along 
his own lines, and away to the dark masses of men that 
were forming in mighty battalions for the death struggle. 

It was now four o'clock, and as it was the last day of 
autumn, and therefore one of the shortest days of the 
year, the sun was sinking in the west ; but as the light 
struck across the plain, it shone on one of the most daz- 
zling sights in the world — a great army drawn up in 
"Battle's magnificently stern array." 

These preparations were not unobserved. As it was an 
open plain between the two armies, every movement of the 



232 A GREAT DISASTER. 

enemy was distinctly seen. Going to a projecting angle of 
the works. General Cox mounted the parapet, and with his 
field-glass took a long look at the large bodies of troops 
that were being massed at the foot of the hills ; then 
mounting his horse, he rode to every point of the line, to 
see that all was ready tor the attack. He had not long to 
wait, for ah-eady the troops were in motion. The day was 
nearly done, but enough remained to gain an immortal vic- 
tory, and at that moment the drojoping of a flag by General 
Cheatham gave the signal for the whole line to advance. 

The battle began on the extreme left with a premature 
attack, which failed from its very precipitation. Gen. Bate 
(afterwards Governor of Tennessee, and now Senator) was 
a dashing soldier, and, being eager for the combat, pushed 
forward his division only to discover, as it came within range 
of the enemy, that it was in advance of connecting lines. 
As his men looked to the right for a supj)ort, they saw that 
the other divisions were far behind ; and as they had to 
take the whole fii'e, they retreated. Major Vaiilx was an 
eye-witness of the attack and the repulse, and cotdd not 
but regret, while he admired, the too impetuous valor of 
his brothers-in-arms. 

But the fortune of war changed as the Confederates 
advanced in tremendous force, and it was now the turn of 
the Federals to experience a great disaster. In arranging 
the defences, two brigades had been placed outside of the 
town, across the turnpike, not as a position to be held, 
but simply to check and delay the attack. They were to 
fire a few rounds of artillery, and then to withdraw within 
the works and take their place in the line of defence, or 
to be held as a reserve. But as the apjDroaching columns 
drew nearer, the officer in command, more brave than wise, 
(who seems to have thought it the jDi'oj^er thing for a 
soldier to fight the enemy anywhere, and with any odds, 



AVHO WAS IT THAT BLUNDERED ? 233 

even unsupported and alone,) ordered liis infantry to open 
fire, as if the battle were to be fougbt on that ground.* 

* That it was the commander of the division who blundered at 
this awful moment, is but too evident. The author of " The Ke- 
treat from Pulaski to Nashville," thus reports what he himself saw 
and heard: "The writer was standing on the parapet of the 100th 
Ohio Regiment, urging the men to strengthen their works, and talk- 
ing with General Wagner. The General was reclining on his elbow, 
with a staff or crutch in his hand : he had fallen with his horse and 
was lame. We remarked that the musketry firing was becoming 
more rapid, also from the two guns in front. By-and-by a staff 
officer rode fast from one of the brigades, and reported excited- 
ly, ' The enemy are forming in heavy columns. We can see them 
distinctly in the open timber and all along our front.' Wagner said 
firmly 'Stand there and fight them,' and then turning to me, said, 
'And that stubbed, curly-headed Dutchman,' meaning one of his 
brigade commanders [General Conrad], ' will fight them too.' ' But, 
General,' the officer said, ' the ordere are not to stand, except against 
cavalry and skirmishers ; but to fall back behind the main line if a 
general engagement is threatened.' In a short time another officer 
rode in from the right in great haste, and told him the Rebels were 
advancing in heavy force. He received the same order. The officer 
added, ' But Hood's entire army is coming.' Then Wagner struck 
the gi'ound with his stick, and said ' Never mind : fight them ! ' Soon 
we heard the Eebel yeU and heavy firing." 

It was a dreadful mistake, for which he had to suffer in the way 
that a soldier feels most : for in less than a week, General Thomas, 
after careful investigation, relieved him of his command, and that 
was the end of his mihtary career. But soldiers are generous in 
their judgments, and quick to forgive the mistakes of one who has 
been brave, and so the writer of the above adds: " Wagner was a 
great fighter. It is said that bullets rattled out of his clothes for a 

month after the battle of Stone Eiver He is now dead ; his 

soul is in heaven with the heroes ; and let us draw over this one error 
the mantle of charity, and cherish the memory of his personal valor 
and dauntless courage on the hard-fought battlefields of the West." 



234 WHY WERE THESE BRIGADES THERE ? 

The only explanation of his thus acting, not only without 
orders, but against orders, is that he "lost his head" — 
a very bad thing to lose in a battle.* It were better that 

* This terrible disaster at the opening of the battle has often 
led to the inquiry, why these brigades were placed in such an 
exposed position ? And gentle home critics think that they 
detect here a fault of strategy. A word of explanation, with 
the help of the map, may relieve their minds, and show them 
that there was no mistake at all in the disposition of the Union 
army. 

The reader must bear in mind the position of Gen. Schofield 
on that morning. He had not planned for a battle at Franklin, 
but had intended, in accordance with the orders of Thomas, to 
continue his march to Nashville, as he would have done if he had 
found bridges or pontoons to cross the Harpeth river. Disap- 
pointed in this, he had to change his plan, and prepare for the 
contingency of battle where he was. As yet he was wholly in the 
dark as to the intentions of the enemy. Judging from the move- 
ment of Hood at Columbia, in crossing the river and endeavoring 
to get in his rear, it seemed probable that he would repeat the 
same movement at Franklin ; and instead of attacking in front, 
where the Twenty-third corps held a strong line of defence, 
would cross the river, and making a circuit, move round the town, 
BO as to take the Federal army in the rear, and cut ofl its retreat 
to Nashville. In anticipation of such a movement, one division 
of the Fourth corps, to be followed by others, if necessary, 
had been got across the river to the bluff on the other side, 
where General Schofield, from the earthworks (designated on 
the map as Fort Granger, the only point of sufficient elevation 
to command a view of the whole field), was able to watch the 
advance of the enemy, and change his own movements to meet 
the attack from whichever quarter it might come. 

It was with an eye in both directions, that the two brigades 
had been placed in front, to observe the movements of the 
enemy ; and if he should turn towards the river, to swing round 
with him, keeping in his front, and fending off the attack till the 
interior lines could be reformed to meet the tremendous shock 
that must follow. The plan was perfect in every detail. As Gen. 
Cox, repelling the criticisms which had been made on his com- 



POSITION OF THE ARMIES. 



235 




BATTLE-FIELD OF FRANKLIN. 



236 CONFEDERATES DRIVEN BACK. 

he had lost his life, for by this act of madness he lost a 
thousand men ! The result was what might have been ex- 
pected. As the enemy's line of battle overlaj^ped these 
brigades on both sides, it instantly closed in upon them, 
and poured in such a fire that in a few moments they 
were utterly broken, and rushed at fuU sj)eed back to the 
entrenchments, the Confederates following in hot pursuit. 
This was a double disaster. Not only were the brigades 
themselves overwhelmed, but the whole line had to hold 
its fire for fear of killing its own men ; and so when the 
column rushed into the works, their pursuers rushed in 
after them, and were inside of the Federal lines, where 
they seized the shotted guns, and whirled them about to 
pour their contents into the flying crowd. But in the wild 
ujDroar, even the horses had caught the panic, and tearing 
away fled down the road, wdth the limbers containing the 
primers, so that the guns could not be discharged ; and in 
the midst of this confusion, the tide of battle rolled back 
again, and all was recovered. 

But this was not accomplished without a terrific con- 
flict. In the rear of the line the ground descends in a 
gentle slope, and here a reserve brigade of two thousand 
men, under Colonel Opdycke, had been ordered to he down, 
that they might not be exposed till they were needed. 
They had been warned of the danger of a break in the 
line, and now, at the call of their leader, they sprang to 
their feet, and rushed upon their assailants with the bay- 

manding officer for this disposition, as also for his being at Fort 
Granger instead of being with him at the front, said witli 
emphasis, "General Schofleld was exactly where he ought to 
have been, and the orders issued were exactly what they ought 
to have been." He might have added, that if those orders had 
been strictly obeyed, trhe result would have been not only the 
defeat but the entire destruction of Hood's army. 



GENERALS RALLYING THE MEN. 23T 

onet. So sudden was this apparition of armed men, start- 
ing uj) as if they had literally come out of the ground, 
and so tremendous their onset, that some accounts make 
their commander the hero of the battle. It woidd be more 
correct to say one of the heroes : for there is no need to 
exalt him at the expense of others, who shared in the 
same achievement. This brave officer now sleeps in a sol- 
dier's grave, and no praise can be too great for his com^age 
at that decisive moment. But with his brigade were the 
portions of the two divisions under ReiUy and Strickland 
that had been pushed back by the inish of Wagner's men, 
with the avalanche of Confederates behind ; but who, as 
soon as the mingled mass swept by, so that they could 
distinguish frien.l from foe, reformed under those gallant 
soldiers. AU those in high command did their duty on 
this great day. General Stanley had been so sure that 
the attack of the enemy, when it came, would be on the 
other side of the river, where he was, that he had remained 
there with General Schofield till the firing began. Then 
he mounted his horse, and spurred to the front just in 
time to meet Wagner's brigades (that belonged to his own 
Fourth Corps) in fuU retreat ; and exerted himself with 
the utmost energy to rally them, when his horse was shot 
under him, and he was wounded, and compelled, very much 
against his wiU, to return to his quarters for surgical skill. 
This threw the whole burden of command upon General 
Cox at a moment when the fate of the army was at stake. 
The imminent peril inspired him to increased activity, so 
that he seemed to fly from point to point. The voice of 
command could not be heard in the uj^roar of battle ; but 
soldiers along the Hue could see that figure waving his 
sword in air, and dashing wherever the combat was the 
deepest and the danger the greatest ; and catching the 
inspiration, they refonned their broken ranks, and rushed 



238 ATTACK OF CHEATHAM^S CORPS. 

upon tlie foe with a fury that was irresistible. The issue 
is briefly told : " There was a few minutes' fierce melee, 
but the guns were retaken, and all the men in gray 
inside the parapet were dead or prisoners." 

General Schofield, who was watching the battle from 
the Fort, had felt his heart sink as he heard the yells with 
which the Confederates rushed over the works, and saw 
his own men swept away by the torrent. For the moment 
his heart stood still, for it seemed as if the battle was lost. 
But he soon breathed again, for though, at the distance he 
was, he could not see the forces engaged, since the roll of 
musketry was so incessant that fi'iend and foe were wrap- 
ped in a dense cloud of smoke ; yet, as the space behind 
was clear, and he could see that there icere no more men 
running to the rear, he knew that his troops had regained 
their position. 

This tremendous attack, which had threatened to de- 
stroy the Federal army, had been made in the centre by 
General Cheatham. Those who saw it coming say that 
never was there seen in war a grander sight than that of 
this whole Corps, massed in one mighty avalanche, sweep- 
ing down with a force that, it seemed, must be irresistible. 
One who looked at it with a soldier's eye, in which admi- 
ration mingled with dread, draws this picture : " The day 
had been bright and warm ; the afternoon sun was setting 
on the distant hills; and in the hazy, yellow light, and 
with their yellowish-brown uniforms, those in the front 
ranks seemed to be magnified in size : one could almost 
imagine them to be phantoms sweeping along in the air. 
On they came, and in the centre their lines seemed to be 
many deep and unbroken, their red, tattered flags, as numer- 
ous as though every company bore them, flaring in the sun's 
rays, with conspicuous grouj^s of general and staff officers 
in their midst, and a battery or two in splendid line charg- 



GREAT LOSS OF OFFICERS. 239 

ing along between the divisions." This magnificence was 
terribly marred when the broken Federal line was restored, 
and the troops poured in their deadly fire. But still the 
charge was renewed with incredible fury. Again and again 
the Confederates rushed to the assault, even when it saemed 
hopeless, for the fire never slackened an instant. Instead of 
coming in fitful volleys, it was one continuous roar, sweep- 
ing away whole ranks of men ; so that the survivors, as they 
staggered on, had to pass over the dying and the dead. 
Major Vaulx told us of the terrible slaughter in what 
passed under his own observation. He said : " Cheatham's 
old division (which still retained his name after he had 
been promoted to the command of a corps), was com- 
manded by General John C. Brown. I was riding at his 
side when a ball struck him, and he fell forward on his 
horse's neck. I at once dismounted, and with others 
lifted him off and placed him in an ambulance, to be car- 
ried from the field, when I mounted and rode on, till of 
five general officers attached to our division, besides the 
commander, who had just been wounded, three were 
kiUed, and the fifth captirred inside the Federal works ; 
while of the staff officers attached to the division and to 
the four brigades, out of twelve, all but one were either 
killed or wounded I Such a loss of general and staff offi- 
cers, I never saw before in any battle that I was in, and 
indeed do not think I ever read of in war." 

While this murderous conflict was going on in the cen- 
tre, another great Corps (that of Stewart), on the right of 
Cheatham, was converging towards the Federal lines. It 
came on with unbroken ranks till it got within range of 
tho guns from the other side of the river, which swept 
that part of the field, and the heavy shot plunging into 
the sohd columns, cut long lanes of death. But " officers 
on horseback and afoot were at every gap, trying to close 



240 Stewart's corps. 

them up," and the unfallen brave kept on till, as they came 
nearer and nearer the works, their numbers grew fewer. 
Never did men fight more desperately, and yet more hope- 
lessly, as even Major Vaulx had to admit. To one who has 
shared in the fierce conflict of battle, it always seema as if 
there might have been done something more ; and in the 
morning, as we were overlooking the field, and he recalled 
every feature of the great struggle, he had felt again all 
the excitement of the hour. Standing up in the carriage, 
and looking intently at the ground in front, along which 
Stewart's men had swept up to the Federal lines, he took 
in the whole scene, and it seemed as if a little more elan, 
or a thousand or two more men, might have carried the 
day, and he exclaimed, "By the Eternal! Stewart ought 
to have broken through ! " It was the natural feeling of a 
soldier, and yet in it he forgot that the Confederates, fear- 
less as they were, were met with a courage equal to their 
own ; and later in the day, when we came to ride over the 
ground by which Stewart's Corps advanced, he saw at once 
the concentrated fire which it had to encounter, and was 
able to do more full justice to his brave companions-in- 
arms in recognizing that they had done all that human 
valor could do. 

A gentleman recently living in New York, who was in 
command of a battery of steel guns, told me that as he 
moved forward, he passed over the hill on which General 
Hood had taken his position, in whose presence he sud- 
denly found himself, and could not resist the imprdse to 
pause a moment to see how a Commander looked in the 
midst of a battle. As he described the scene, " General 
Hood was sitting on a flat rock at the foot of a tree, his 
legs (one of which was of wood, to replace the original 
that had been lost in battle) extended in front, between 
which a fire had been lighted, and was still smouldering. 



THE LULLS OF THE BATTLE. 241 

At the instant one of General Cheatham's staff rode up in 
great excitement to report that he had carried a part of 
the Federal line, but could not hold it unless immediately 
reinforced. ' How does Gen. Cheatham estimate his loss? 
asked Gen. Hood. 'At one-half of his whole command in 
killed and wounded,' was the reply. At this he raised his 
hands, clasping them together, and exclaimed ' O my God ! 
this awful, awful day ! ' Then recovering himself, he turn- 
ed to one of his staff and said • Go to Gen. Stephen D. Lee, 
and tell him to move up to the support of Gen. Cheatham, 
putting in Johnson's division first, and Clayton's next.' 
As my battery was between the two, I knew that my time 
had come, and moved on with the rest." 

And now the battle raged all along the Hnes. The first 
success of the Confederates proved their ruin, as it had 
been so easily gained that it led them to repeat the 
attack, pouring division after division upon the works, 
only to see them melt away under that terrible fire. After 
these terrific charges, came what was not less impressive- - 
the lulls of the battle. First, there was a sound in the 
distance, as of a great multitude in motion, coupled with 
a fearful yell, which culminated in a rush and roar, as the 
living human wave struck upon the beach, and broke and 
rolled back again. Then for a few minutes there was a 
lull, as the enemy were gathering their forces to renew the 
onset — a comparative silence, broken only by the groans 
of the wounded and the d^ing. One who was in the battle 
writes me that the charge itself was not so dreadful as 
these moments of expectation. Then rose the same ter- 
rific yell, and on they came again with the same desperate 
courage, but not with the same confidence : for they came, 
not with erect, martial air, but with heads bent low, as 
when facing a tempest, and caps drawn over their eyes, 
»s if to shut from their sight the fate that awaited them. 



242 ATTACKS CONTINUED IN THE NIGHT. 

At some points of the line the fire was such as no troops 
could stand long. Mr. Fullton, of the MaxweU House in 
Nashville, told me that he belonged to a troop of cavahy, 
which, when earthworks were to be attacked, were dis- 
mounted, ever}'' fourth man being detailed to hold the 
horses, while the rest served as infantry. As they advanced 
to the attack, they had hardly come within range before 
twelve of his company fell, and it seemed as if the whole 
would be swept away if they had not been ordered to 
throw themselves on the ground ; and there, he said, " we 
lay the greater part of the night, not daring to raise our 
heads, nor to crawl forward even a few rods to give succor 
to the wounded and dying, whose groans we could hear 
distinctly right in front of us." 

Driven back at one point, the charge was renewed at 
another with the same desperate courage, but always with 
the same result, until it was evident that fui'ther efforts 
were only a useless sacrifice of human life ; and still the 
rage of battle was such that the attacks were repeated at 
intervals far into the night. 

All these incidents of the day were detailed to me with 
great minuteness, as we rode over that battle plain, by 
those who had been actors in the scenes they described. 

As we came back along the Columbia turnpike to the 
edge of the town, Mr. Carter met us and conducted us to 
the old Gin-House, which figures in all the accounts of the 
battle ; and along the line of the entrenchments, pointing 
out where this or that Confederate division charged, and 
where the leaders fell. He had a theory of his own, accord- 
ing to which, if Ms plan had been followed, the result would 
have been otherwise. He was quite sure that if Gen. Bate, 
instead of rushing headlong into the fight, and getting se- 
verely crippled before the battle had really be,(^un, had been 
a little less impetuous, and moved xovlqA farther to the left, 



THE CARTER HOUSE. 243 

he would have found the Federal line weaker, and might 
have made a charge that would have led to victory ! Col. 
McEwen told how Forrest, the famous cavalry leader, went 
to Hood, and asked permission to cross the river with his 
mounted men, when, as he said, " he would flank the 
Federals out of their position in fifteen minutes ! " But 
the Commander had made his own plan of battle ; and 
being in an angry and imperious temper that day, was not 
in a mood to receive suggestions, or to listen to the pro- 
posal of any manoeuvre other than that of direct battle, 
f,nd answered haughtily to the bold trooper who would 
jlanh the enemy, " No, no ! Charge them out I " 

But leaving speculations as to what might have been, we 
proceed to observe what actually took place. IMr. Carter 
now led the way to his house, which was the very centre 
of the battle. As it stands fronting on the Columbia turn- 
pike, which runs through the town, and was but a few 
rods in the rear of the Federal breastworks, it was in the 
angle of two lines of battle : for, when the brigades of 
Wagner came flying in utter rout, they swept past its very 
door, followed by the Confederates, and the two sides 
fought around the dwelling ; and when the onset was 
stayed, that portion of the line which was nearest was 
still held by the Confederates, while the Federals formed 
another line a few rods in the rear, so that the house was 
left between the two lines, and received the fire of both. 

At this time the house contained a large family. The 
mother had died ten years before, but the father was still 
living, and with him were a son (who was now our guide,) 
and four daughters, a daughter-in-law, and several chil- 
dren. Of course, had they foreseen how near the battle 
would come to them, they would have fled to the other 
end of the town, or across the river. But in the early 
part of the day, while this was the headquarters there 



244 TAKING REFUGE IN THE CELLAR. 

was perfect discipline, nobody was distui-bed, and they felt 
that they were safest under their own roof. And when at 
last the storm came, it biu'st upon them so suddenly that 
it was too late to escape. There was only one spot of 
safety, the cellar, and there they all took refuge. Here, 
self-imprisoned, they could not see what was going on 
about them, but they heard the roar above their heads, for 
the thunderings and lightnings were incessant. As the 
mass of soldiers surged round the dwelling, some who 
shrank from the awfvd fire crowded into the cellar way, 
when the family retreated behind a partition, but as there 
was no means of barring the door, the intruders pressed in 
there also, and into a third underground refuge, when, as 
IMr. Carter himself tells the tale, he "turned upon them 
and cursed them and drove them out ! " But even in this 
dark hiding-jDlace, he could look through the gi-ated win- 
dow, and ask the " Yankee soldiers " how the battle was 
going ! 

After a time the fury of the battle abated, for the first 
shock, which was the most tremendous of all, had spent 
itseK in an hour. Then darkness came, so that the oppos- 
ing lines were partly hidden from each other. But still 
they fought on, even when they could see to fire only by 
the flashing of each other's guns. 

As we came up from the cellar, and went round the 
house, we saw that its southern side, which was exposed to 
the Confederate fire, was riddled with shot, as were all the 
outbuildings having the same exposure. How deadly it 
proved was shown by the fact that IVIr. Carter counted 
fifty- seven dead, besides the wounded, in his door-yard the 
next morning. 

Leading the way across the garden, my friend Cun- 
ningham stopped under a pear-tree, which recalled the 
memory of that fearful night. It was in the line of the 



"keep firing! " 245 

earthworks thrown up by the Union soldiers, outside of 
which was a ditch. Of this part of the line the Confeder- 
ates had got possession, and held it ; but so terrible was 
the fire that again and again the parapet was swept of the 
heads that rose above it. The trench below was filled with 
the dying and the dead. Standing with one foot on the 
bodies of his fallen comrades, and the other on the bank, he 
rested his gun — a short Enfield rifle that he had been per- 
mitted to carry, as he was so young and small — on the top 
of the works. The line had been so thinned out that only 
a solitary fellow-soldier stood near him, and now he was 
shot, and fell heavily (he was a large man) against him, 
and tumbled over into the mass of dead below. Thus left 
alone, he asked General Strahl, who had stood for a long 
while in the trench, and passed up loaded guns to men 
posted on the embankment, " "What had we better do ? " 
The answer was " Keep firing ! " But Strahl himself was 
soon shot, and while being carried to the rear, was struck 
again and instantly killed. He was succeeded by Colonel 
Stafford, who also was killed, and sank in such a position 
that he was braced up by the mass of bodies around him, 
so that when the morning came, he was standing there 
stark and cold, as if still ready to give command to the 
army of the dead ! 

These were ghastly memories to come back after the 
lapse of so many years. How changed the scene now! 
It was the month of March, and akeady the breath of 
Spring was in the air, and the little pear-tree, which 
had hved through all the storm and tempest of that fear- 
ful night, though scarred in many places, yet had healed 
its wounds, and was isutting forth its leaves fresh and 
gi'een, as if it had never heard the sound of battle. So, 
while men die, the life of nature keeps on, and even di-aws 
nourishment from their blood. Toi-ning to my companion, 



246 THE BATTERY IN THE LOCUST GROVE. 

I said " Do you remember tlie lines of Byron on a friend 
of bis youth ■who j)erished at Waterloo : 

' And when I stood beneath the fresh green tree, 
"Which living waves where thou didst cease to live, 
And saw around mo the wide fields revive. 
And earth come forth with promise of the Spring, 
I turned from all she brought to those she could not bring ' ? " 

From the house, IMr. Carter and Colonel McEwen led 
the way past the farm buildings and across the back lot, 
that had been the scene of a fierce struggle, to a meadow, 
in which stood at the time of the battle a locust grove, 
where was planted a battery that inflicted a galling fire 
upon the Confederate lines. It was for the capture of 
this battery that Hood is said to have issued his order in 
the dramatic style of which Sam Jones makes such use in 
one of his sermons.* 

*I quote from the little volume of Letters pubUshed three or 
four years ago imder the title "Blood is Thickek thanWateb" 
(pp. 60, 61): 

"It is said that the Confederate line as it advanced was enfiladed 
by a battery planted in a grove of the black locust trees so common 
in that region. Seeing his men cut to pieces, General Hood, who 
was watching the battle, sent one of his aids with the following 
order : ' Give my compliments to General Cleburne, and tell him that 
I ask at his hands the battery in the locust grove.' The aid disap- 
peared, and quickly returned with the message, ' General Cleburne 
is dead, sir ! ' Again the Commander spoke, ' Give my compliments 
to General Adams, and tell him that I ask at his hands the battery 
in the locust grove.' Again the message is returned, ' General Adams 
is dead, sir ! ' Once more went the unflinching order to a third com- 
mander, with the same result. The moral is evident. The thrice- 
repeated command is meant to illustrate the duty of unquestioning 
obedience, and, as might be supposed, is used with startling effect 
on a Confederate audience, though the fiery preacher afterward 
introduced it in one of his great meetings in Chicago, when, after 



FINDING A SON AMONG THE WOUNDED. 247 

But here is an incident whicli does not need to be told 
with an eye to dramatic effect, since nothing can add to its 
touching character. Mr. Carter, who was now walking at 
my side, had a brother, Theodoric, who when the war 
broke out was twenty-three years old, and though he had 
just entered the profession of law, was so carried away 
by the excitement of the hour that he threw down his 
books and enlisted in the ranks as a private (he afterwards 
became a quarter-master) in the Western Confederate 
Army. His service took him away from Tennessee, and I 
think his brother told me that he had not been home in 
two years. He was now in Hood's army, and perhaps, as 
he came over the crest of the hill, he caught sight of the 
old dwelhng, where his family were troubled with anxious 
thoughts of the absent son and brother. In the night, 
word came that he had been wounded, and was some- 
where on the field, perhaps dead or dying ; and about two 
o'clock the father and son and one of the daughters went 
in search of him. Dividing into two parties, the son took 
one coiu'se, and the father and daughter another, and thus 
they went from point to point, turning the light of their 
lanterns into the faces of those scattered thickly over the 
ground. At length the father and daughter found him, 
mortally wounded, but still breathing, though unconscious. 
He had sacrificed his life to his chivakous courage. His 
duties did not require him to be on the field, but he volun- 
teered to serve as aid to General T. B. Smith, and was 
advancing to the charge when, about a hundred and sev- 

winding up his hearers to the highest pitch, he gave the word of 
command somewhat after tliis fashion: 'As Adjutant of the Lord of 
Hosts, I ask at your hands the city of Cldcago ; that you compel it 
to surrender to the Lord Jesus Christ ! —an undertaking more diffi- 
cult than to storm any battery that ever hurled death in the face 
of a foe." 



248 THE SOLDIER DYING AT HOME. 

enty-five yards southwest of his dwelling, and eighty yards 
in front of the locust grove, he received two fatal wounds 
and fell from his horse. Thus it proved that, amid the 
horrors of that fearful night, when his family were cower- 
ing in terror at the roar of the battle around them, with 
an agony intensified by the thought of where he might be, 
he was in fact lying on the cold ground, bleeding his life 
away, near to the old home, almost within sound of their 
voices, yet beyond their reach and theii' aid. Tenderly 
they lifted him up and carried him to his father's house, 
where the next morning one who was an eye-witness teUs 
me he saw the body of the long-absent son and brother, 
around which his sisters hung with the utmost tenderness, 
caressing the almost lifeless form, stroking the pale cheeks, 
and whispering gently amid their tears, " Brother's come 
home ! " He had come home indeed, though it was only 
to die (he continued to breathe thirty-six hours) ; but it 
is something which is not always given to a soldier, to 
draw his last breath under his father's roof, and to be laid 
in his last sleej) beside the dust of his kindred.* 

* To these personal reminiscences of one of my companions, I may 
add this, told me by another, Col. McEwen : 

" General Kimball occupied my house as his headquarters, at 
which occurred this strange incident. About four o'clock, after 
the General had left for the field, there lingered a Colonel from 
Indianapolis in my parlor; he was a lawyer, and a nice man; he 
asked my daughters to sing and play him a piece of music. They 
hesitated, but I answered for them, ' Yes.' My daughter asked what 
they should play V He replied that he had not been in a parlor since 
the battle of Oak Hill was fought, and that he did not know one 
piece of music from another, except field music. I then spoke and 
asked the young ladies to sing and play a piece which had recently 
come out, ' Just before the Battle, Mother,' telling the Colonel that it 
was a new piece. At my request, they sat down, and played and 



EVACUATING THE TOWN. 249 

About half past ten o'clock Gen. Schofield sent orders 
to Gen. Cox that at midnight the troops shovild be with- 
drawn — an order which the latter received with great pain, 
as he felt that there was now an opportunity to destroy 
Hood's army. The prisoners who had been taken, or who 
had come in and given themselves up, reported that they 
were all cut to pieces ; that regiments and divisions were 
left almost without officers ; and that the whole army was 
utterly demoralized. These reports were confirmed by the 
heaps of dead that lay all along the line. Seeing and 
hearing this, Cox felt that there was an opportunity such 
as seldom occurs in war, to end the campaign with a 
single blow, and he implored Gen. Schofield to remain, 
saying in the ardor of his confidence that he "would 
answer with his head " for the result of the next day. The 
answer of Schofield was all that could gratify the pride of a 
soldier. He said : " Tell Gen. Cox he has won a glorious 
victory, and I have no doubt we could do as he suggests in 

sung the piece about half through, when I stepped to the door, and a 
shell exploded within fifty yards. I immediately returned and said, 
' Colonel, if I am any judge, it is just about that time now ! ' He 
immediately sprang to his feet, and ran in the direction of his regi- 
ment, but before he reached it, or by that time, he was shot through 
the lungs, the bullet passing quite through him. He was taken back 
to the rear, and on to Nashville. Eighteen days after I received a 
message from him through an officer, stating the fact of his being 
shot, and that the piece of music the young ladies were executing 
was stiU ringing in his ears, and had been every moment that his 
eyes were open since he left my parlor the evening of the battle. In 
April, four months later, after the war was over, he had sufficiently 
recovered to travel, when he came to Franklin, as he stated, expressly 
to get the young ladies to finish the piece of music and relieve his 
ears. His wife and more than a dozen officers accompanied him. He 
fovmd the ladies, and they sang and played the piece through for him 
in presence of all the officers ; and they wept like children." 



250 HOOD S COUNCIL OF WAR. 

the morning. But my orders from Gen. Thomas are impera- 
tive, and we must move back to Nashville as soon as possi- 
ble." So the order was reluctantly issued, and at midnight 
the troops were ready to move. But at this moment a 
fire broke out in the town — a building had perhaps been 
set on fire for the purpose — which cast a light over the 
place so as to exiDOse every movement to the enemy. This 
caused a delay, but at length the fires sank down in their 
ashes, and the wearied soldiers once more strung their 
knapsacks on their backs. The trains had been akeady 
got across the river, and the broken columns resumed 
their march. 

Ignorant of all this, Hood, who was brooding gloomily 
over the events of the day had called a council of war at 
midnight, at which the commanders of the three corps, 
Cheatham, Stewart, and Lee, reported their several com- 
mands as half destroyed. As he listened to tale after tale 
of disaster, his temper, soured before, became almost 
savage. Still he bore up with an unconquered mind ; 
and, even while one-fourth of his army were stretched in 
their blood upon the ground, he declared that he would 
renew the contest the next morning. One thing he had to 
give him confidence. His heavy artillery, of which he had 
felt the want the day before, was now coming up, and he 
said he " would open the battle with a hundi'ed guns 1 " 
Indeed he could not wait for the break of day, but at three 
o'clock startled the town with a tremendous roar. Said 
Col. McEwen, " I thought it would take my head off." But 
to his amazement there was no reply, for the Federal army 
was across the river, and on its way to Nashville, and only 
heard in the distance these last thunders of mipotent rage 
and fury. The sound did not hasten their steps an instant, 
nor evoke a taunt or a cheer. Still they plodded on 
silent as the stars that were shining above them. In that 



THE NIGHT MARCH TO NASHVILLE. 251 

long procession there was none of the pomp and circum- 
stance of war, nothing of that which might be expected 
in an army a few hours after a great victory. But I 
believe it is Wellington that has said, " Next to a great 
defeat, the saddest thing in the world is a great vic- 
tory." As there was no shout of triumph for the living, 
there was no mourning for the dead. " Not a drum 
was heard nor a funeral note." The soldiers were weary 
and worn : many of them had been wounded ; some had 
their heads bound up ; others carried their arms in slings ; 
some, leaning on their comrades, dragged themselves slowly 
along. Sadder than all, as they took their places in the 
ranks, they missed many from their side : comrades that 
but a few hours ago were " full of lusty life," were now 
lying in their new made graves, or unburied on the plain. 
An army thus stricken, was in no mood for exultation. 
What a contrast was this night march to that of the night 
before ! Only twenty-four hours had passed, but in that 
time they had lived years I Thus blood-stained with the 
wounds of battle, yet victorious, in the gray of morning 
they found rest in the camps round the city of Nashville. 

This withdrawal had been whoUy voluntary, yet Hood 
had the weakness to telegraph to Eichmond, "We attacked 
the enemy at Frankhn, and drove him from his outer line 
of temporary works into his interior line, which he aban- 
doned during the night, and rapidly retreated to Nash- 
ville ! " as if ho had gained a victor3^ But this pretence 
deceived no one, for it was impossible to hide from his 
own soldiers the awful carnage of that day. As soon as 
daylight made it visible, they had before their eyes the 
horrors of the battlefield, on which lay six thousand dead 
and wounded I Though used to war, they had never seen 
such a sight before. There were places where the dead 
lay one upon another, five deep ; while for some distance 



252 SCENES AFTER THE BATTLE. 

the ground was covered. A Confederate officer tells me 
that the next morning he mounted his horse to ride to the 
front, but as he drew near the horse started back, affright- 
ed at the smell of blood, and at the human figures that 
stared at him from the ground, with every look of agony 
in their faces ; and he dismounted and endeavored to pick 
his way on foot, but so thick were the slain that he said, 
" I do not think it extravagant to say that for two hun- 
dred yards from the line of the intrenchments, I could 
have walked on the dead, stepping from one body to 
another i " 

As it was along this part of the line that the first rush 
of the Confederates came, here was the first shock of bat- 
tle, and here many of the leaders fell. Clebui'ne, as might 
have been expected, was in the front. He was the bravest 
of the brave, and he had been stung to the quick by the 
angry reproof of Hood for his failure to attack at Spring 
Hill ; and now, with his Irish blood hot within him, he 
mounted his iron-gray stallion, and putting himself at the 
head of his men rode straight at the foe, to fall in the 
sighfc of both armies, dying as a soldier might wish to 
die, "amid the battle's splendor." Knowing that his chiv- 
alrous daring had made him the idol of the Southern army, 
I could appreciate the feeling of my companions when Mr. 
Carter stopped us and said, " This is the very spot where 
Cleburne fell ! " But a few rods distant Gen. John Adams 
was in the very act of springing his horse over the works, 
when both fell together, he being throvm over into the 
ranks on the other side, while his horse was left liter- 
ally bestriding the works. " Old Charley " was the very 
type of a war-horse, and was almost as well known in the 
army as his master ; and the figure of the powerful crea- 
ture was very striking in death, as he lay at full length, his 
hind legs reaching to the bottom of the outer ditch, while 



.GROUPS OF THE DEAD. 253 

the long neck was stretched on the slope, the head on the 
very top of the pai'apet, as if still breathing defiance at 
the foe : 

"There lay the steed with his nostril all wide, 
But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride ; 
And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf, 
And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf." 

That war-horse would make a figure for a sculptor, almost 
as striking as the lion of Thorwaldsen ; and the State of 
Tennessee ought to have it wrought in marble or cast in 
bronze, as a type of the courage of her sons on the field of 
battle. 

Hardly less striking than this were the groups scattered 
far and wide over the field : for the dead lay in heaps, 
torn to pieces by shot and shell, till they had almost lost 
the semblance of humanity ; with the brave creatures that 
had carried them into the battle stretched beside them : 
"Eider and horse, friend and foe, in one red burial blent." 

In the presence of such awful misery, it seems an un- 
worthy intrusion of human pride to dispute the honors 
of the day. It is not an hour to boast when thousands of 
our feUow-beings are lying on the ground in the agonies 
of death. The object for which the battle was fought — to 
destroy the Union army — had utterly failed, and so far it 
was a Union victory. But if only the glory be considered, 
there is glory enough for all : for never was there a more 
splendid display of coirrage and devotion, than in the 
Confederates who that day sacrificed their lives in vain. 

The army that fought the battle of Franklin, was not 
yet quite at the end of its campaign. The last shot had 
not been fired. Only two weeks later — on the fifteenth of 
December — it was to have a part in one more battle and 
one more victory : when the army of Thomas, doubled in 
strength by that of Schofield, poured foi*th from Nashville, 



254 A LATE CENTENNIAL. 

and swept all the encircling hills, by which the army of 
Hood was so completely scattered and destroyed that it 
vii-tually ceased to exi&t, as a force to be taken into account 
in any future movement. This was the final blow which 
ended the war in the West, so that General Schofield, with 
his command, was transferred to the East, and sent by sea 
to join Sherman in North Carolina ; while Grant held 
fast to Lee. AU these movements were linked together, 
so that a check in one would have been a disaster to aU. 
If Schofield had not "held the fort" at Frankhn, Thomas 
might not have been able to hold it at Nashville, and Hood 
would have swept through Kentucky to the Ohio ; so that 
all that was being done in Virginia and in the Carolinas, 
might have been neutrahzed by a great defeat in Tennes- 
see. All portions of the country were comprised in that 
splendid strategy, which, manoeuvring over half the Union 
in a vast circle winding round and round, and contracting 
towards a common centre, finally closed in and crushed 
the Rebelhon within its mighty folds. 

Those were heroic days that should never be forgotten. 
Since then twenty-five years have passed, and a new 
generation has come upon the stage that may forget the 
terrible cost at which the Union was restored, except as it 
is recalled by some memorable anniversary. But a few 
months since we looked out of our windows in New York 
upon the greatest pageant that ever swept through its 
streets, the celebration of the completion of a hundred 
years from the foundation of the Government. In that 
brilliant array the President of the United States was 
accomj^anied by all the high officers of State, and repre- 
sentatives of the army and navy. The enthusiasm for 
these heads of the nation was divided with that for the 
Southern Governors, some of Avhom — like Buckner of Ken- 
tucky and Gordon of Georgia — had been Generals in the 



THE BATTLE-FIELD GROWING GREEN. 255 

Confederate army, and now appeared leading the troopo 
of tbeir respective States — not as captives in a triumphal 
procession, but as equal partners in One Country : rejoic- 
ing as fully as the North in the immeasurable blessings 
of a restored Union. 

At the head of this great procession rode General 
Schofield, the same who had fought the battle which I 
have attempted to describe, and who, after a long life of 
service, has succeeded Grant and Sherman and Sheridan 
as head of the army of the United States. How could one 
who had but lately come from the field of Franklin, help 
thinking with a shudder of what might haw been if he had 
not planned so wisely and stood so fii-mly, while so many 
brave men died for their coimtry, on that decisive day a 
quarter of a century ago 1 

In visiting a battlefield after the lapse of a few years, 
there is at least this satisfaction, that nature soon obliter- 
ates aU traces of the passion and the violence of men. 
The earth drinks up their blood, and the grass grows 
green again over their graves. As we walked along the 
lino of the intrenchments, I found every trace of them had 
been destroyed, as the ground has been many times 
ploughed over. But every Spring, as it is turned up 
anew, fresh relics are brought to light. My fi'iends picked 
up a handful of bullets, which they turned over to me, to 
which I answered that I thought I would take them to 
General Schofield with the compliments of his Confederate 
friends, who, as they had not had the opportunity of pre- 
senting them when he visited the town on a certain memo- 
rable occasion, would make amends for this neglect by 
presenting them now. The gallant Major charged me 
especially to say how glad they were that they had not 
been presented on the appointed day ! This duty I per- 
formed on my arrival in Washington, The General re- 



256 HEARTS YEARN TO BE KNIT AGAIN. 

ceived them with a smile, and as he took them in his hand, 
pointed out the peculiar shape of each ball, which showed 
whether it had been fired by friend or foe, and kept speci- 
mens of each, as interesting and harmless souvenii's of a 
great event, not only in his own life, but in American 
history. 

General Schofield said that after the war he had a great 
desire to see General Hood, and renew the acquaintance 
which they had in the old days, when they were four years 
side by side at West Point. Hood had settled down in 
New Orleans. Schofield wrote to him several times to 
come on to the meeting of his old classmates. But he 
never came. In his last letter he said : " To tell the truth, 
I have ten children to provide for, which takes all my time 
and care." The reason did honor to the soldier's heart. 
These were soon to be left without father or mother : for 
both died within a few days of each other, and the eldest 
daughter a few hours after her father. A blow so sudden 
and so teiiible enlisted great sympathy at the South, where 
every heart and every home was open to those who were 
thus doubly orphaned. Nor was it in the South only, but 
in the North also, where more than one were taken into 
the closest relations, as if they were of the same blood. 
So is it that an unnatural alienation is sometimes followed 
by a reaction of feeling, which in its return causes an over- 
flow of affection and kindness. Esj^eciaUy when the grave 
has closed over the heroic dead, old strifes give place to 
kindly memories, and flowers blossom out of the dust. 
Severed hearts yearn to be knit again, and hands long 
withdrawn are stretched out once more ; and, though it 
may be only in the next generation, new affections spring 
up, and sweet household ties come in, to bind all together. 



CHAPTER XVn. 

VISIT TO THE HOME OF ANDREW JACKSON. 

Next to the scene of the battle of Franklin, the one 
place in the neighborhood of Nashville which I desired to 
see, was the Hermitage, the home of Andrew Jackson. 
"WTien I was a boy, I can just remember his election as the 
President of the United States. During the two terms of 
his administration, and for years after, he was the great- 
est political power in the country: indeed it is doubtful if 
any man from the time of Washington to the opening of 
the Civil War, filled a larger space in the public eye. He 
is a very picturesque figvu'e in American history. He was 
not of the ordinary run of poHticians — smooth-tongued 
and "all things to all men"; but a man original and 
unique, a product of nature rather than of education. A 
child of poverty, he came up in the backwoods, like some 
prodigious growth of the forest. Without the polish of 
society, he had a natural courage and force of will that 
put him at the head of the rough communities of the 
border, from which the force of circumstances pushed him 
on till he reached the highest position in national affairs. 
A man who has acted such a part in his generation, is a 
subject of interest to the student of history, and hence the 



25S SHUT UP WITH CONFEDERATES. 

desire which I felt to see the place where he lived and 
died. 

The visit was made easy for me by the coiu-tesy of Ex- 
Governor Marks, who offered to be my guide, and to 
whose company was added the attraction of that of his 
wife, and of ]Mr. Jno. W. Childress, a nephew of ]\Ii's. 
Polk. Thus I was shut up in a carriage with three Con- 
federates, and I do j^rotest that I might have been in a 
worse place. Indeed I could not have been with more 
delightfid companions. The very fact that their experi- 
ence had been so entirely different from mine, put it in 
their power to tell me much which I could not know 
before, but was eager to hear. As a full-blooded North- 
erner, I like to tell of all the things done by the brave men, 
and brave women too, of the North. One of my heroes is 
General Bartlett of Massachusetts, that young student 
fresh from Harvard, so fair and dehcate that it seemed 
as if he could hardly march in the ranks, but who proved 
a soldier "without fear and without reproach"; who at 
the siege of Port Hudson, being unable to walk, insisted 
on mounting a horse that he might take part in the battle, 
which exposed him the more to the fire of the enemy, who 
were so struck with his cota'age, that it is said the officers 
gave orders not to aim at him, which however did not 
save him, as he was shot in two places, and had in spite of 
his protests to be carried to the rear. He could not learn 
prudence by repeated wounds, but continued to exj)ose 
himself till he was " shot all to pieces," when, like the 
brave soldier he was, he wrote to one who had pledged 
him her love, releasing her from her engagement to such a 
wreck as he felt himself to be, to which she replied, like 
the brave woman she was, that " she would marry him as 
long as there was body enough to contain his heroic 
soul " ! As I told this story, I observed a flush in the lady 



A TALE OF THE WAR. 259 

at my side, which indicated that she had a similar story to 
tell ; and to my inquiring look she answered that just be- 
fore the war she had been engaged to one who was called 
to the field, whom she, with anxious and trembling heart, 
watched as he marched away to an uncertain fate. Then 
came the gi'eat battle of Murfi'eesboro. She heard that he 
was wounded : and for a few days was in an agony of 
suspense, an agony that grew more intense as night came 
on, and she sat alone in the moonlight, and imagined him 
lying on the cold ground ! At length the storm of battle 
swept farther away, and the wounded were in reach of 
warm hearts and gentle hands, and she was able to take 
her place by the couch of the brave soldier whose name 
she was to bear, and soon after to enter on the life of per- 
fect happiness that has continued to this day. 

Mr. Childress, though much younger, was not too 
young to take part in the war at its close, and was in the 
battle of Franklin which I have described ; and had the 
most vivid memory of that night march, when Schofield's 
army passed in full view of the camp fires of the enemy : 
and of the teriible scenes of the following day. 

While thus engaged in conversation, we had been rid- 
ing over a succession of hills, till we were ten miles from 
the city. The country around Nashville is not pictur- 
esque ; there are no mountains on the horizon ; but the 
land rises and falls gently, turning ujp a thousand slopes 
to the sun and rain, which bring forth abundantly so that 
the whole region is a garden of fertility. 

At the top of one of these slojDes, a gateway opens into 
a long avenue of trees, at the end of which stands a large 
house, built in the old Southern style, with a row of pillars 
in front, the chief architectural decoration of a planter's 
house in the old slavery days, as it stood in the centre of 
a great plantation — a sort of Feudal Castle arounu which 



260 THE HERMITAGE. 

gathered the mixed population that owed allegiance to the 
Lord of the Manor. This was the Hermitage, the home of 
Andrew Jackson. 

On this spot he settled in the early part of the century, 
though not in the great house which we now see. The 
pioneers in the valley of the Cumberland, as in other parts 
of the West, lived in log cabins. Jackson's first home was 
not much better. It stood in the rear of tlie j)resent Her- 
mitage : you may still see the old chimney, up which huge 
fires flamed and roared long ago, round which sat the 
mighty hunters of that day (for it was not long after the 
time of Daniel Boone, whose exploits were the tradition of 
the border), and talked by the firelight of their contests 
with wild beasts and savage men. In this humble dwell- 
ing Jackson lived long after he became a famous man in 
the State of Tennessee ; it was from under that roof that 
he went forth to fight his battles, and (as the servant told 
us) " done all his big things" ! But in the course of years, 
as his military achievements gave him wide distinction, the 
cabin had to give place to something more stately, that 
was fit to be the abode of so much greatness. It was at 
the steps of this mansion we now drew up. 

Ringing at the door, a figvire appeared that was in 
keeping with the general aspect of the place, venerable 
indeed, but a good deal worn by the ravages of time. 
This was an old servant, over eighty years of age, who had 
been born on the place, and lived here all his life. He was 
now gray and grizzled, and his thin garments looked as if 
they had fluttered in the wind for manj'^ a year, making 
him altogether fit to be the keeper of an old baronial haU, 
that had long since seen its best days, and was now going 
to decay. Indeed he seemed like the very ghost of the 
olden time, but a gentle and kindly ghost, who was himself 
a part of the place, through which he moved like a shadow, 



HOUSEHOLD RELICS 261 

and who (instead of rattling off a string of commonplaces, 
like a professional guide,) talked simply and naturally of 
his old master, the beloved dead. He now led the way 
into the interior of the house, which is divided by a broad 
hall, after the old fashion. On the left, as you enter, is the 
parlor, where the faded hangings and worn-out chairs and 
sofas are the fit mementoes of departed glory. Here is a 
collection of souvenirs of the old soldier : the chair in 
which he sat, and the couch on which he reclined ; the 
sword that he wore in battle, and the pipe that he smoked 
in peace. 

Some of the relics tell of the rough times in which he 
lived in the early days of Tennessee. Here is a bullet 
that he carried for years in his body, where it was planted, 
not by a foe on the field of battle, but in a bar-room fight 
in Nashville, in which he was shot by a man who was one 
day to fight on his side as fiercely as he now fought against 
him — Thomas H. Benton of Missouri, who, when Jackson 
was President, was his chief supporter and defender in the 
Senate of the United States. Some may think it a wrong 
to Jackson's memory to recall these personal encounters. 
On the contrary, I think it but just to paint him exactly as 
he was, and not to soften his features as if he were a saint. 
Let us tell the truth. He lived in rough times, in which 
he was a rough fighter. "We need not hide this feature of 
the man, since we can go on to tell how, in his later career, 
his undauntcil courage was devoted to the service of his 
country. 

As the border was in those days, as in ours, the resort 
of many desperate characters, the quality most prized and 
most honored was personal courage. A coward could not 
live in such a community. A man must be ready to 
defend himself at all times and in all places. Nor was 
this courage needed only in personal combats, but in 



262 COURAGE OF JACKSON. 

enforcing the law. Jackson had picked up a smattering 
of the law before he left his native State of North Carolina. 
His mother, a good Scotch-Irish woman, had intended him 
for the pulpit, and he had actually begun his studies for 
that holy calling (no doubt he would have been a rousing 
preacher, setting forth the terrors of the law with tremen- 
dous power!) when circumstances turned him aside to 
another vocation. As he crossed the mountains to what 
was afterwards to be the State of Tennessee, it was with 
an appointment as a " solicitor," in the duties of which he 
had often to deal with the invaders of public lands — a task 
which called for a good deal of courage. Not less was this 
required when he became a Judge. On one occasion he 
had ordered the sheriff to arrest a drunken brute who was 
noted for his strength and his ferocity. The sheriff 
attempted to execute the order, but retui-ned, saying that 
the man was armed, and threatened to kill any one who 
should approach him. Jackson told him to go back and 
take the man dead or alive ; and if he could not do it 
alone, to summon anybody whom he wished to help him, 
" even if it were the Judge on the bench," to which the 
officer quickly replied, " I summon youi- Honor " I Instant- 
ly he rose from his seat, and taking a loaded pistol in his 
hand, advanced upon the desperado, who, seeing that 
further resistance was vain, at once surrendered. 

A man of such courage naturally took the lead in times 
of public danger. The settlements had to be in constant 
preparation against an attack of Indians. Jackson had 
had a training in the school of war, for he remembered 
the Revolution, when, a mere boy, he was taken prisoner, 
and struck by a British officer with a sword, inflicting a 
scar which he carried through life, while his brother 
received a wound from which he died (he had but one 
other brother who had ah-eady died in the war) ; and his 



OLD HICKOKY. ' 263 

motlier too sank under the fatigues of marcliing after the 
pitiless soldiers, and niu'sing the wounded and the dying ; 
so that, except himself, the family was literally exterminat- 
ed, and he was left alone in the world. These were bitter 
memories, which inspii'ed in the young orj)han a hatred of 
oppression and cruelty ; and to the latest hour of his life, 
nothing roused him to fury more than an act of injustice 
to helpless childhood or womanhood. 

This is not the place to enter into the military career 
of General Jackson. That is a matter of history. Whether 
he was a great soldier, is a question for the military critics. 
Certainly he had the quickness in conception and prompt- 
ness in action which are the first requisites of a leader. 
He had also a comradeship with his soldiers that gave him 
great power over them. He shared their hardships and 
privations, tramping by their side in the long marches 
through forest and swamp, in which he proved so incapa- 
ble of fatigue, that the soldiers, who delight to give nick- 
names to their favorite commanders, dubbed him " Old 
Hickory." "When the day was over, he was ready to lie 
down under the open sky, with no bed but the leaves of 
the forest. Often provisions ran low, and the whole camp 
was put on short rations. Not unfrequently many a brave 
man had not a biscuit in his knapsack. But " Old Hickory " 
made as light of starvation as " Old Eliott " did at the 
siege of Gibraltar. In his Indian campaign his men were 
reduced to the lowest point, but he said " if they could 
only get an ear of corn apiece," they would carry it through 
to the end. On one occasion a soldier came to him, say- 
ing that he was literally starving, perhaps prompted to 
make his wants known as he saw the General sitting at 
the foot of a tree, eating something with apparent relish. 
Instead of reproving him, Jackson replied that he was 
always ready to share what he had with his men, and 



264 THE BATTLE OF NEW ORLEANS. 

thrusting his hand into his pocket, drew out a handful of 
acorns, saying that that was all he had to eat ! When a 
commander was thus ready to su£fer the extreme of priva- 
tion, and even to give his last acorn to a hungry soldier, 
his men quickly learned the lesson taught by such an ex- 
ample. And when at last he was able to face the enemy, 
and there was nothing to do but the fighting, that was 
mere play ; indeed he seemed really to enjoy it (per- 
haps this was the Irish blood that was in him) ; his ardor 
rose with danger, he pressed forward to the front, and 
seemed to be everywhere present, inspiring his soldiers 
with his own unconquerable spirit. 

If it be the best proof of a great general that he wins 
victories, certainly Jackson proved his right to that dis- 
tinction. In his campaign against the Indians in Florida, 
he broke their power as effectually as he afterwards 
stopped the EngHsh invasion at New Orleans. In the lat- 
ter case he was pitted, not against savages, but against an 
army of fourteen thousand men, the veterans of the Penin- 
sular War, with whom Wellington had marched from vic- 
tory to victory. Against these Jackson had less than half 
the number, the greater part of whom were mere militia. 
True, they were the rifle-men of Kentucky and Tennessee, 
but they could hardly be expected to stand against a disci- 
pHned army, unless they had been insjoired by a resolute 
commander. It was then he showed an energy almost 
superhuman. It is said that for four days and nights he 
did not close his eyes. To be sure, he carried things with 
a high hand ; he declared martial law, he seized cotton 
bales wherever he could find them to make breastworks, 
and no doubt in many cases went beyond the limit of his 
authority, but his plea was the necessity of the case. 
Everything was to be sacrificed to self-preservation. He 
violated the law, but he saved the city! 



HOxME LIFE. 265 

But this is not the place to fight his battles over again. 
Under the roof of the Hermitage, it is more in keeping 
with the domestic surroundings, to speak of the home-life 
of its former occupants. No life could be more in con- 
trast with the rugged scenes of war. "When the army dis- 
banded, and its commander retired to his home, it was to 
enjoy tranquillity and peace. He had had enough of pub- 
lic life, civil and military ; and now he had but two 
thoughts — his family and his farm. The latter had been a 
good deal neglected during his absence, and needed the 
care of its master. He was not rich ; he could not be 
reckoned among the wealthy planters of the South. Nor 
was he a large slaveholder. Not that he had any scruples 
about holding slaves, but as he had no need of them, if 
they came into his hands, our old guide said that "he put 
'em aU out to traders and let 'em go." This reduced the 
number of his cares, and made his life more simple and 
easy. It was then he built his new house, and planted the 
long avenue of trees before the door ; as his servant told 
us, his master " set 'em all out his-self." 

If such was the growing beauty around the Hermitage, 
still greater was the beauty of the life within. Strange as 
it may seem in one of his violent temper, Jackson was a 
very affectionate husband. If he hated bitterly, he loved 
warmly, and the wife whom he had married in his early 
manhood, was to her last hour the object of his most 
ardent devotion. With such elements of happiness with- 
out and within, the life of the country gentleman flowed 
on as smoothly as the river that flowed by the Hermitage. 
In this happy retirement he remained till he was called 
to enter once more into the service of his country. 

All readers of political history are famihar with the 
circumstances which led to his nomination for the Presi- 
dency ; to his defeat in 1825, when, there being no elec- 



266 THE DEATH OF HIS WIFE. 

tion by the people, Jolin Quincy Adams was cliosen by the 
House of Representatives ; and to the election of Jackson 
four years later. Then he had reached the height of his 
ambition ; and yet at that very moment all the joy of it 
was taken away by the greatest blow that could befall him, 
in the death of his wife — a blow that dashed his triumph 
to the ground, and cast a shadow over his whole life. As 
our guide said, "He was never the same man again." 
It was just as he was about to leave the Hermitage for 
"Washington — the carriages were already packed — that she 
was suddenly taken ill and died in three days. All this 
came back again as her old sei-vant conducted us to the 
corner of the garden where she is buried. He remem- 
bered the day when his master stood beside the open 
grave, into which was let down the form of her whom he 
had loved so long and well. The old man said, "It cut 
him to the heart. You see," he added with his simple 
negro pathos, "it comes mighty hard for a man to lose his 
wife! " When all was over, "ashes to ashes, dust to dust," 
the old soldier, now alone in the world, walked to the car- 
riage, which bore him away from the scene of so much 
happiness and so much sorrow. The journey to the Capi- 
tal was a melancholy one. In aU the honors that awaited 
him, there was a feeling of inexpressible sadness that she 
who had been his companion in earlier days, who had 
shared his humbler fortunes, was not with him to share 
his honors now ; and in all the years of power, whenever 
he looked across the Potomac to where the sun was going 
down in the west, his heart was far away by that lonely 
grave on the banks of the Cumberland. 

For eight years the Hermitage was empty, as its Master 
was transferred to other scenes. "When Jackson came to 
Washing-ton, there was great curiosity to see him, as he 
had been pictured in very different forms by friends and 



A PRESIDENT NOT MERELY IN NAME. 267 

foes. Some wlio looked for a rough siDecimen of the bor- 
der, a sort of untamed barbarian, were sui'prised to find 
" a gentleman of the old school," with a fine soldierly pres- 
ence, a natural dignity, and coiuily manners. It was soon 
discovered that he was to be President not merely in 
name ; that he was not to be simply an ornamental person- 
age, a mere figure-head of the ship of State, but an em- 
bodiment of 230wer, that would be felt in every department 
of the Government. And how did he use this vast power? 
Wisely and well ? or capriciously and to the injmy of his 
country ? There can be no doubt that the imperious tem- 
per which fitted him for military command, to some extent 
unfitted him for civil administration. Military power is 
not the best preparation for a more restricted authority. 
It has often been said of General Grant that he thought 
he could conduct a government as he commanded an 
army, simj)ly by issuing his orders to his lieutenants. The 
same could have been said with more truth of Jackson, as 
he was of a temper more arbitrary. He was not a man to 
weigh public questions in the balance with slow and cau- 
tious judgment. He coiild not brook opposition. He had 
strong likes and dislikes : he loved his friends and hated 
his enemies ; and viewing pubhc questions in their per- 
sonal relations, his administration ran into a personal gov- 
ernment. That the powers and the emoluments of office 
should be enjoyed by those who were hostile to the head 
of the Government, seemed to him an injustice to himself 
and to his loyal supporters, though the saying which has 
been imjouted to him, " To the victors belong the siDoils," 
was in fact the utterance (such I believe is the truth of his- 
tory) of Governor Marcy of New York, whom its people at 
least regard as being entitled as much as any man of his 
day, to the name of a statesman and a jpa-triot. He may 
have spoken it in jest, but it was a most unfortunate phrase, 



268 WAR WITH THE UNITED STATES BANK. 

and declares a vicious principle. "While condemning it in 
the strongest terms, it is but simple justice to Jackson to 
say, that his faults gi'ew to some extent out of his vii'tues ; 
that they were the faults of a generous natiire. If he had 
been a man with no hot blood in his veins, but cold and 
passionless, he might have been saved fi'om mistakes into 
which he was led by his ardent temj)erament. If he had 
not loved his friends so well, he might have served his 
country better. But his friendships, like his hatreds, 
wai'ped his judgment. So in his political views, whichever 
side he took, he took strongly ; he was sure that he was 
right ; and his fierce determination to do right often led 
him to do wrong. 

In the glass case which contains the personal relics, is a 
pen which has a history, that makes it as interesting as a 
pen that has been used in the signature of a treaty of 
peace or a declaration of war. It is the pen with which 
he signed his vek> of the bill that had passed Congress to 
renew the charter of the United States Bank ! It is a plain 
quill pen, for, as the old darky said, " The Gineral alius 
wrote with a quill ; he didn't use none o' them fine gold 
pens, like you 'uns." But though it was only a gray goose 
quill, it was enough to write a decision which shook the 
country. His enemies claimed that it caused a financial 
convulsion, which spread ruin and disaster far and wide. 
Certain it is, that it precipitated a fierce conflict ; and when 
he followed it up by removing the deposits from the 
United States Bank, the bitterness of feeling was such as 
has rarely been known in the history of the country. 
The Senate recorded its disapproval in a Resolution 
ofifered by Mr. Clay, that "the President had assumed 
upon himself authority and power not conferred by the 
Constitution and laws, but in derogation of both " — a cen- 
sure which stood upon its record till, after a long agita- 



HE PUTS DOWN NULLIFICATION. 269 

tion, it was formally " expunged ! " This was effected 
chiefly by the efforts of Col. Benton, who atoned for the 
bullet he had once sent into the body of General Jackson 
by this determined and at last successful effort to remove 
a blot upon his name ! 

It was at such times as this that the old "Whig Party 
vented its rage in wrathful imprecations upon the head of 
one whose purpose they could not change. But even they 
had to confess that there were times when the country was 
all the safer because of " Old Hickory's " fiery temper and 
tremendous will. It was in the year 1832 that nullification 
raised its head in South Cai'olina — a demonstration that, if 
unchecked, might have ended in civil war. For such a 
crisis Jackson was the man of all men, for he permitted no 
trifling. He did not meet it with soft phrases, but with a 
decision and energy that soon put an end to this incipient 
rebellion. His proclamation was one of the most masterly 
State papers ever issued in the history of the Government. 
It dealt with the argument of nullification in a calm, judi- 
cial manner, ending with this conclusion : " I consider the 
power to annul a law of the United States, assumed by one 
State, incompatible with the existence of the Union, con- 
tradicted expressly by the letter of the Constitution, un- 
authorized by its spirit, inconsistent with every principle 
on which it was founded, and destructive of the great 
objects for which it was formed." These were solemn 
words, and they were made more impressive by a know- 
ledge of the personality which stood behind them, ready to 
enforce them with all the power of the Government ; for 
Jackson had declared his purpose, if the movement of 
nullification were persisted in, to treat its leaders as 
"traitors," whom he "would hang as high as Haman"! 
This mild suggestion set the nullifiers a-thinking, and 
they soon concluded that it would be more prudent to 



270 KETURNINa TO HIS HOME. 

wait for another time, when a weaker man should sit in 
the Presidential chair. That time was yet to come when 
the executive power was in the hands of one of infirm 
purpose, who saw the country drift to ruin, and felt him- 
self impotent to stay its course. In the last days of 
Buchanan, when the Government was falling to pieces, 
because there was a weak old man in the White House, 
there were millions of voices that cried in despair, "Oh 
for one hour of Andrew Jackson ! " The obligation of 
the country to him for his prompt action in a like crisis, 
cannot be measui'ed. True, it did not prevent the reap- 
pearance of Secession after he was in his grave, but it 
staved it off for a whole generation, till the country was 
strong enough to deal with it. 

When after these stormy years he came back to his 
quiet home, he was still interested in public affairs, and 
the Hermitage was a shrine to which politicians came from 
all parts of the country. But for him the work of life was 
over. He lived chiefly in memories of the past. He used 
to walk slowly through the long avenue of trees, his ser- 
vant following with a chair for him when he chose to sit 
under the refreshing shade, where he could talk with the 
fi'iends who came to see him, or muse in silence on the 
events of former years. It was then his mind took a turn 
of meditation on the great hereafter. Of Scotch-Iiish 
descent, he had never forgotten the faith of his childhood. 
In all the wild passion of former years, he had never lost 
his reverence for sacred things. While he was President, 
it was said by one who was a frequent visitor at the 
White House, that he would not partake of a meal without 
a grateful recognition of the Giver of all good. If there 
was no clergyman present, or any one whom he could re- 
quest to ask a blessing, he would ask it himself. And now, 
as he sat in the twilight of his years, the old man became 



BURIED BESIDE HIS WIFE. 271 

a cLild again, and went back to the prayers and the hymns 
that he learned at his mother's knee. Near his house he 
erected a small Presbyterian church, that he might -wor- 
ship God according to the way of his fathers. In it he 
was wont to meet every Sabbath day, with a little congre- 
gation made up of his neighbors and their servants. It 
was proposed to make him a ruling elder, which he said he 
should consider the greatest honor of his life, but of which 
he thought himself unworthy. Looking to the future, it 
was natiu'al that his anticipations should be connected with 
her who had been the light of his home and the joy of his 
existence. As often as he visited her grave, and bent over 
her dust, he thought, without jDain, that he should soon be 
laid beside her. An American Commodore, who had been 
in the Mediterranean, had brought home a sarcophagus, 
said to have been that of the Emperor Severus, which he 
desu'ed to present to General Jackson, as worthy to con- 
tain the remains of one so dear to his countrymen. To 
this he replied, acknowledging the courtesy, but declining 
the honor, saying, " I cannot consent that my body shall 
be laid in a sarcophagus made for an emperor or a king. 
I have prepared a humble depository beside that wherein 
lies my beloved wife, where, without any pomp or parade, 
I have requested, when God calls me to sleep with my 
fathers, to be laid, to remain until the trumpet sounds to 
call the dead to judgment, when we, I hope, shall rise 
together, clothed with that heavenly body promised to all 
who believe in our gloriou.s Redeemer, who died for us 
that we might live, and by whose atonement I hope for a 
blessed immortality." The anticipation was soon to be 
realized. In a few weeks after this letter was penned, the 
end came. The old servant took us to the room in which 
his master breathed his last. It is a very modest room on 
the ground floor. All his surroundings were plain and 



212 A GREAT PERSONALITY. 

simple in life and in death. Within these bare walls, on 
this very bed, the old -warrior surrendered at last to a foe 
that was mightier than he. 

With this description of our visit to the Hermitage, the 
home of Andrew Jackson, I leave it to my readers to form 
their judgment of a character so extraordinary. I have 
only to say that, whatever it may be, be it one of praise or 
of blame, of eulogy or condemnation, they will find abun- 
dant reasons to sustain it, for in him, as in all powerful 
natures, there was a mixture of good and evil that almost 
defies analysis and forbids classification. But with every 
drawback, no one can read the story of this life without 
confessing that Jackson was a great personality. 

Among the treasures of the Hermitage is a chair that 
once belonged to the Father of his Country. To say that 
Jackson "filled" the chair of Washington, would be 
assuming too much. But with all his faults — and they 
•v/ere many and marked — no man, not even Washington, 
loved his country more. Like him, Jackson had fought 
for it, and was ready to die for it, and in the hour* of dan- 
ger to that Union which the Fathers of the Eepublic 
labored so long to establish, no successor of Washington — 
not even Lincoln — stood more firmly to maintain the 
country's integrity and honor. 



CHAPTER XVm. 

STONEWALL JACKSON. 

A few weeks before I left New York for tlie South, I 
drove out to Riverside avenue to the grave of General 
Grant. It was a beautiful autumn day. The leaves were 
falling from the trees ; the woods were almost stripped 
and bare ; and aU things wore the sombre, funereal look 
which is the token of the change that comes alike on nature 
and on man. The spot is one of great natural beauty — a 
swelling mound, perhaps a hundred feet above the Hud- 
son ; commanding a view of great extent up and down the 
river ; across to the Pahsades and beyond to the moun- 
tains ; and far down the bay to where the sheen of the 
waters fades into the distant gleam of the ocean. What a 
place for a warrior to rest after his stormy Hfe ! And yet, 
though it be so calm and still, it is within the limits of the 
great city in which he spent his last years ; and thus he is 
recalled to us if it be only by his grave. As the Laureate 
of England says of WelHngton, who sleeps in the very heart 
of London, under the dome of St. Paul's, so may we say of 
our honored dead : 

" Let the sound of those he wrought for, 
And the feet of those he fought for, 
Echo round his bones forevermore," 



27i THE VALLEY OF VIRGINIA. 

From the grave of our Tjeloved soldier it is a natui'al 
transition to tliat of his great adversary, Avho sleej^s far 
away among the hills of the old Commonwealth Avhich he 
so much loved. The fact that he led the opposing armies, 
does not abate the interest with which we study his extra- 
ordinary career. The time has come when we can do 
justice to those who fought against us, and even claim 
their valor and self-devotion as a part of our national 
inheritance of glory. As I have somewhat of the instinct 
of an Old Mortahty, I confess to a very great interest in 
visiting their homes and sepidchres. And so, as I retur'> 
ed fi'om the South, I took my way across the mountairs, 
that I might spend a day in the retired and most beautifid 
spot where General Lee sj)ent his last years ; where he 
died and is buried ; and where his " right arm " (as he 
called "Stonewall" Jackson) was buried before him. 

I came an entire stranger, knowing no one ; but as I 
stejjped from the car, a gentleman called me by name, and 
"took me to his own home." It was Professor J. J. White 
of the College, who received me with as much kindness as 
if I had been an old fi'iend. Perhaps it gives color to all 
my impressions both of the College and the town, that 
they are associated with such kindly hospitality. 

Lexington is situated in that part of the Old Dominion, 
which, being between the Blue Ridge and the Alleghanies, 
is known as the Great Valley of Virginia. This is at a 
considerable elevation above the sea — it is, in fact, a 
genuine table-land, or plateau- — but being walled in by 
ranges on both sides, it has the aspect of a broad and open 
valley, lying in the lajD of its guardian mountains. The 
region is both pictiu'esque and historical. Settled at an 
early day by a sturdy race from the North of Ireland, sons 
of the men who fought at the siege of " Derry," it has 
always had a remarkable population. A place of Buch 



WASHINGTON COLLEGE. 215 

" sightliness," and in the centre of such a people, seemed 
fitted for an Institution of Learning, and here, more than 
a hundi"ed years ago, was set up on the hill-top one of the 
best Academies of the times before the Revolution, whose 
name of " Liberty Hall " showed that even then the spirit 
of independence was abroad — a name which gave way, 
after a few years, when the Academy had grown into a 
College, to that of Washington, to which it had a just title, 
as it received its first endowment from the Father of his 
Country, in a property valued at fifty thousand dollars, 
given to him by the State of Virginia, which he accepted 
only on condition that he might devote it to this object. 
And here, half a century later, rose, as a fit accompaniment 
to the College, a MiUtary Academy, modelled after that at 
West Point, to furnish defenders to the country. But 
intensely Southern in its associations and sympathies (or 
it might be more accvirate to say, intensely Virginian), it 
followed its State in the movement of Secession, and among 
the first recruits that went into the Confederate army were 
students fit'om Washington College, and cadets from the 
Military Academy. 

Indeed they had hardly need to go to the war, for the 
war came to them. From the very beginning the Valley 
of Virginia was a scene of conflict. As it is a rich agricul- 
tural region, it was the nearest and most convenient source 
of supplies to the Confederates in the field, and was called 
" the backbone of the Confederacy," and hence its jjosses- 
sion became an object of contest for both armies. 

Among the earliest of those who volunteered for ser- 
vice, was a professor in the " Military Institute," Thomas 
Jonathan Jackson. A Virginian by bii-th (born in 1824), 
he was educated at West Point, where he was in no wise 
conspicuous. He did not rank high in his class. His 
mind was not a brilliant one, at least in acc|[uiring know- 



276 THOMAS JEFFERSON JACKSON. 

ledge , it was not dull, but it was slow ; and whatever he 
learned came by the hardest. But he kept at it with a 
dogged persistency, so that each year he stood higher than 
before, particularly in matheiDalics, a study most necessary 
in war. Graduating in 1846, at the time of the Mexican 
War, he was immediately ordered to Mexico, where though 
but a lieutenant, he showed such courage and capacity, 
particularly at the storming of Chapultepec, that he was 
brevetted a Major. After his return to the United States, 
he became a Professor in the Military Institute at Lexing- 
ton, a position in which he did fairly well ; but he was not 
a great teacher, as he had not been a great scholar. In his 
class-room exercises, he was faithful and exact, and always 
showed that he had himself mastered the subject ; but he 
had none of the personal magnetism which inspires young 
minds with enthusiasm. In short, there was nothing to 
indicate that this man was to prove himself one of the 
greatest soldiers of his time. 

In external aj^pearance there could not be a greater 
contrast than between this plain soldier and General Lee, 
who was the model of a military commander, graceful in 
person, and stately in manners, with a natural dignity that, 
while it did not repel, did not permit any famiharity. 
Jackson had not a particle of grace. Brave as a lion in 
battle, he was never at ease in society. One of his old 
friends here in Lexington, who met him often, teUs me 
that his manner was so wanting in ease, that when he 
entered a room, he greeted the company with an awkward 
military salute, and sat down on the edge of a chair, bolt 
upright, as if eager to be off, asking a few abrupt ques- 
tions, and answering "Yes" or "No"; and then, rising as 
abruptly as he came, with a bob of his head, and a short 
" Good morning," jerked himself out of the room ! 

But Professor White, who knew him equally well, 



A PLEASING PICTURE. 277 

thinks this does not do him justice, and says, " There has 
been some disposition even among Southern writers to 
caricature Jackson as a man, in the effort to place Jackson 
the soldier in bolder relief"; and then he draws such a 
loving picture, that I cannot refrain from letting my read- 
ers enjoy it with me : 

"A certain blunt, curt, and reticent habit, which marked the 
soldier, has been thought to characterize him in social inter- 
course. Such was not the case. I met him very often in society, 
and do not hesitate to say that he was modest, genial, courteous, 
and notably polite to every one. He was not graceful ia figure 
or in movement, but in sinrit was highly so. He had a peculiarly 
gentle expression of countenance, and moved easily in a social 
scene, making it a point to speak, at least for a few minutes, to 
every lady present, with no appearance of constraint or embar- 
rassment, and had a smile and pleasant word for every acquaint- 
ance. His whole manner was so gentle and unobtrusive, his 
punctilious regard for the feelings of others bo invariable, his 
unselfishness so striking, that if his reputation in the Mexican 
war had not been known, I do not think that the rough soldier 
would have been thought of in connection with him. My friends 
of both sexes concur with me in these views." 

This is exquisite. Here are two pictures very unlike, 
and yet not incompatible : for they are the pendants of 
each other. The same man, who was shy even to bash- 
fulness in general society and among strangers, might 
among his intimate friends lay aside all constraint and 
reserve, and be as simple and natural and delightful as he 
was in his own home. 

But whatever lack of grace of manner there might be 
in him, one thing was always conspicuous — his prompt 
response to any call of duty. For his pastor, the late Dr. 
White (the father of my friend and host), he had a respect 
amounting to reverence, looking up to him as a superior, 
to whom he was to " report," and from whom he was to 
receive " orders." Once, when this faithful shepherd of 



278 HIS RELIGIOUS CHARACTER. 

the flock had dwelt on the duty of taking pari in prayer- 
meetings, Jackson called to ask if the obligation rested 
vipon him, alleging his own great diffidence ; but being 
answered in the affirmative, soon made known that he was 
"ready for duty." But when it came to the point, he was 
so hesitating and confused as to produce the utmost em- 
barrassment in all present ; and fi'om that time forth the 
pastor would gladly have excused him ; but the intrei^id 
soldier would not be excused : he was determined "to 
fight it out on that line," and by the grace of perseverance 
finally acquired a degree of fi*eedom in prayer, that, if not 
very eloquent, was deeply impressive, as the utterance of a 
great, manly, Christian heart. 

Crystal streams issue out of the hardest rocks, and so 
under this rugged exterior there was a vein of tender 
feehng, half j^oetical and half religious. In writing to 
his wife he said : " I love to stroll abroad after the labors 
of the day are over, and indulge feelings of gratitude to 
God for aU the sources of natural beauty with which He 
has adorned the earth. Some time since my morning 
walks were rendered very delightful by the singing of the 
birds. The morning carolling of the birds, and their 
notes in the evening, awaken in me devotional feelings of 
praise and gratitude, though very diff'erent in their nature. 
In the morning aU animated nature appears to join in 
expressions of gratitude to God. In the evening, all is 
hushed into silent slumber, and thus disposes the mind to 
meditation. How delightful it is to associate every pleas- 
ure and enjoyment with God the giver ! " 

It may seem a Httle in disaccord with this deeply 
religious feeling, that Jackson often fell asleep under the 
most faithful preaching. Perhaps it was because he had 
such unbounded confidence in his pastor: he "knew that 
it was aU right." Or the exj)lanation might be the same 



' STONE-WALL AT BULL RUN. 279 

as that of another celebrated man, Horace Greeley, who 
once told me that it was impossible for him to keep awake 
dui'ing a sermon : and knowing him as well as I did, I 
could understand the reason. He was always overworked, 
and though his vitality was prodigious, and would keep 
him up so long as there was anything to be done, yet the 
vital force was going out of him at such a rate that it left 
him exhausted ; and the moment the pressure ceased, there 
came a reaction ; and " as soon as he began to hear the 
droning from the pulpit " (these were his words, though 
he listened to one of the most eloquent preachers in New 
York, the late Dr. Chapin), he could not resist the drowsi- 
ness that came over him ; indeed he did not try to resist 
it, for the feeling was delicious to his tired frame, and he 
sank into blissful unconsciousness. Jackson, therefore, had 
good company. Yet out of this "sleepy head," as some 
might call it, was to come the thunderbolt of war ! 

The first indication that he gave of what was in him, 
except that in Mexico, was at Bull Kun, where his com- 
mand, though they had never been in battle before, stood 
firm as a rock, or in the phrase of the camp, " as a stone 
wall," from which it was thenceforth known as the Stone- 
wall Brigade, and its commander as Stonewall Jackson. 

Here begins a tale which it would take long to teU of 
the military career that commenced at Bull Run and end- 
ed at ChanceUorsville. It was all comprised in less than 
two years, but they were years of incessant activity. If I 
had the intimate personal knowledge of my friend. Major 
Jed. Hotchkiss of Staunton, Va., who was with him almost 
daily during these two years, I could tell a story that 
would be worth the hearing. He was as near to Jackson 
as any man could be. Not only was he on his staff, but in 
the very responsible position of topograj)hical engineer, 
whose duty it was to keep his chief informed of the whole 



280 DOWN THE SHENANDOAH. 

£eld of operations, mapping out the country — not only- 
giving its great featm-es, its mountains and valleys and 
rivers, but tlie minutest details, to every country road and 
every gap in the mountains, by which perchance he might 
execute a flank movement, and by a rapid night march 
appear in the morning in the rear of the enemy. Thus 
the engineer sometimes virtually designated the field in 
which the general was to fight his battles. 

This old companion of the great Confederate leader, 
gave up a day to accompany me down the Shenandoah 
Valley, part of the Valley of Virginia. The object of our 
excursion was to visit the wonderful Grottoes of the Shen- 
andoah, but in our way we passed over the ground, which 
was the scene of all those camj^aigns in " The Valley," of 
which we heard so constantly in the war — events which 
were now described by one who was an actor in them. 
Indeed, I hope my readers will appreciate my opportuni- 
ties as second only to those of an eye-witness, for if the 
Major rode by the side of Stonewall Jackson, / rode by 
the side of the Major, and listened to the marvellous story. 
Ti'ue, between his ride and mine twenty-five years had 
come and gone, but as the memory was fresh in his mind, 
and he fought the battles over again, some faint reflection 
of his own vivid impressions fell upon me, and I felt that 
to hear him describe Stonewall Jackson, was next to seeing 
the old hero himself. 

From the outbreak of the war, Jackson had attached 
supreme importance to keeping possession of the Valley, 
as a barrier against invasion from the North. He said, 
" If the Valley is lost, Virginia is lost." But how to hold 
it against much greater forces, was the problem. With 
his quick military eye, he saw that it could only be done 
by what is known in war as an ofi'ensive-defensive cam- 
paign, in which the weaker side makes the attack, in order 



NAPOLEON HIS MASTER IN WAR. 281 

to prevent being closed in upon and crushed by over- 
whelming numbers. 

" The Valley Campaign " of 1862, which was entirely 
Jackson's own, the Major looks upon as the most brilliant 
of the whole war. As we were riding in the carriage, he 
took out a pad, and di-ew a sketch of the country, show- 
ing the position of the several armies (for there were two 
or three operating at once against Jackson), in order to 
illustrate the latter's moves in this great game of war. 
Jackson had made a study of the campaigns of Napoleon, 
whose secret of victory he found to be in his marvellous 
combinations, and in a rapidity of movement of which there 
had been no example before. This was carrying into war 
the simple rule in mechanics, that the momentum of a ball 
depends on its weight and its velocity ; and sometimes what 
is wanting in weight can be made up by increased velocity. 
Reasoning from this principle, Jackson was sure that what 
the French had done, Americans could do. He believed 
that an army could be marched twenty-five miles a day, 
and still retain strength to fight a battle ; indeed he once 
marched his Stonewall Brigade forty miles ! To do this, 
he must needs make the day a long one, by starting with 
the first streak of light in the east. This was his habit, so 
that the boys used to say, " He always marches at early 
dawn, except when he starts the night before." 

It is a study in war to see how he carried out this 
principle in the famous Valley Campaign. His princijDal 
antagonist in the field was General Banks at the head of a 
large army,* whose chief business seemed to be to watch 
Jackson, and keep him from crossing the Potomac and 
threatening "Washington. At the same time Fremont was 

* On the 6th of April, 1862, Banks reported 23,093 men present 
for duty. Ten weeks later (June 16th) he reported nearly ten 
thousand less, or 13,631. 



282 THE VALLEY CAMPAIGN. 

menacing liis left at the liead of a force on the west, 
•with which he might advance into the Valley and put him- 
self in Jackson's rear. With these two enemies to look 
after, Jackson suddenly disappeared from the one in fi'ont 
(leaving Banks still " watching " his abandoned camp), 
and literally hiu'led his small force across half a dozen 
mountains and as many valleys, and struck Fremont a 
blow which sent him reeling down the valley of the South 
Branch of the Potomac ; and then, before he could recover 
from it, he turned upon Banks, who, as soon as he had 
heard -of Fremont's defeat, had fallen back in haste to 
Strasburg, where he was overtaken by Jackson, who gave 
him a similar "love-tap" that sent him on sixty miles 
farther, clear across the Potomac. The moral effect of 
these two defeats was not limited to those immediately 
engaged: it stoj)ped McDowell, who was on the march 
with 40,000 men, to take part in the campaign against 
Bichmond — a movement which was immediately arrested, 
that he might be held in a position to cover Washington. 
Having thus defeated twa armies and paralj'zed a third^ 
Jackson obeyed the injunction to " gather up the fi'ag- 
ments that nothing be lost.'* At Winchester the Govern- 
ment had accumulated enormous stores — the w^aggon train 
that took them up the Yalley was fourteen miles long ! — all 
of which feU into Jackson's hands, and was removed to 
Staunton to furnish supplies for the Confederate army^ 
No wonder that they nicknamed Banks their Commissary 
General! But Jackson's work was not over, for other 
forces were gathering against him. McDowell was pre- 
pai-ing to cross the mountains ; while Fremont, who had 
been reinforced, was retui'ning to the attack, so that Jack- 
son was confronted by sixty thousand men aj)proaching 
from opposite quarters. In the advance of such forces he 
fell back till he could place himself between the two ; and 



THE SHENANDOAH VALLEY, 

Illustrating' Valley Campaign 

OF 

"STONEWALL" JACKSON, 

1862. 
BY JED. HOTCHKISS, T. E. 




^t-S "< */ Swift Run 



«£e 



i>- 



12 IG 20 24 



1. Martinsburg. 

2. Haiper's Ferry. 

3. Charlestown. 
i. Berryville. 

5. Winchester. 

6. Kenistown. 

7. Middletown. 

8. Front Royal. 

9. Strasburg. 

10. Woodstock. 

1 1. New Market. 

12. Luray. 

13. Conrad's Store. 

14. HaiTisonburg. 

15. Cross Keys. 

16. Port Republic. 

17. Meehum's River. 

18. Staunton. 

19. McDowell. 

20. Franklin. 

21. Dry River Gap. 

22. Bridgewater 

23. Hagerstown. 

24. Mt. Jackson. 

72 



SCALE OF ENGLISH STATUTE MILES 



Suiilher» S: Co.. Engr'ii »iid Pr't, tt.Y. 



Tlie red line indicates Jackson's route, the arrows shou-ino the direction taken. 



THE VALLEY CAMPAIGJ^. 283 

tlien, facing about at Cross Keys, he gave Fremont a 
second blow as stunning as tlie first ; and the very next day 
fougbt an equally decisive battle with McDowell's advance, 
under Shields, at Port Republic. This was the famous 
" Valley Campaign," and I leave it to the students of both 
to say, if there was anything more brilliant in the Italian 
camjDaigns of the First Napoleon.* 

* For the reader who wishes to study this wonderful Cam- 
paign more minutely, Major Hotchkiss has kindly prepared a 
Map of the country, with lines indicating the direction of Jack- 
son's movements, showing how he zigzagged all over the Valley, 
crossing rivers and mountains, to the widely separated points 
at which he fought his battles. The following note, written to 
accompany the Map, gives these rapid movements more in detail 
than they could be given in the text : 

Jackson spent the Winter of 1861-2 at "Winchester, holding the 
line of the Potomac, on the north bank of which, at Frederick 
City, Maryland, lay the Federal Army, under command of Gen. 
Banks, which began a forward movement Feb. 22d ; crossing the 
Potomac at Harper's Ferry on the 24th, and appearing March 
11th in the vicinity of Winchester, Jackson falling back towards 
Woodstock. Banks followed to the neighborhood of Strasburg, 
and then fell back and established his headquarters at Winchester. 
Learning that Banks was about to send part of his force to Mc- 
Clellan, Jackson advanced towards Winchester, and fought the 
battle of Kernstown, March 23. He then fell slowly back, reach- 
ing the vicinity of New Market on the 2d of April, Banks follow- 
ing to near Mount Jackson. On the 17th Banks advanced, and 
Jackson fell back to Harrisonburg, and then marching around 
the southwestern end of the Massanutton Mountains, and across 
the Shenandoah Eiver, established himself at Conrad's Store on 
the 19th. Banks's next move was to Harrisonburg. On the last 
day of the month, April 30th, Jackson moved to near the south- 
western end of the Massanutton Mountains, and offered battle. 
While absent from his camp that day, Ewell's Division of the 
Confederate Army came across the Blue Fridge at Swift Eun Gap, 
and occupied Jackson's camp. Jackson retui-ned to Conrad's 
Store, and then turned up the river towards Port Kepublic, 
struggling through quicksands and mud for two days to reach 



284 THE VALLEY CAMPAIGN, 

the vicinity of that village. On the 3d of May, Jackson crossed 
the Blue Kidge at Brown's Gap, apparently abandoning the Val- 
ley, and marched to Mecumk's Eiver Station of the Virginia 
Central Kailroad (now Chesapeake and Ohio), where his troops 
took the cars to Staunton. On the 6th he advanced to the top of 
the Big North Mountain, on the way to McDowell, and the next 
day attacked the advance of Fremont's army at Shenandoah 
Mountain, and the day after that fought the battle of McDowell, 
defeating Fremont, who retreated to Franklin, Jackson following 
in pursuit till the 11th. The next day, leaving Fremont at 
Franklin, Jackson turned back, and reaching McDowell on the 
14th, marched to the vicinity of Bridgewater by the 17th, and 
on the 19th marched down the valley by way of Harrisonburg 
(Banks having in the meantime fallen back to Strasburg), reach- 
ing New Market on the 21st, where he turned across the Massa- 
nutton Mountains to the vicinity of Luray, where Ewell's Divis- 
ion joined him. Continuing down the South Fork Valley, he fell 
on Banks's right at Front Eoyal on the 23d, routing it, and cross- 
ing the rivers on the way to Middletown and Winchester. The 
next day he attacked Banks's retreating army at Middletown, 
following it all night to Winchester, where the battle of Win- 
chester was fought on the morning of May 25th, and Banks's 
army defeated, and driven across the Potomac by way of Mar- 
tinsburg. Jackson's advance marched to the vicinity of Har- 
per's Ferry, where it remained until the 30th of May. Threat- 
ened by the concentration of Fremont's and McDowell's armies 
at Strasburg, Jackson collected his army southwest of that place, 
June 1st, in a strong position. As the Federal Army did not 
attack him, he fell back slowly up the Valley, reaching Harrison- 
burg Juno 5th, Fremont's array following, and McDowell's march- 
ing up the valley of the South Fork by way of Luray. Jackson 
fell back to Cross Keys, and awaited Fremont's advance, which 
attacked him June 8th, and was repulsed. That night Jackson 
crossed the river at Port Kepublie, and the next day (June 9th) 
fought the battle of Port Eepublic with McDowell's advance, at 
Lewiston, four miles below Port Kepublie, routing it completely. 
Jackson then encamped between the rivers, southwest of Port 
Kepublie, near the famous Weyer's Cave, where he remained 
until June 17th, when he marched for Kichmond to form the 
left of General Lee's army in his attack on McClellan. 



HIS CALMNESS IN BATTLE. 285 

Witli almost any otlier leader, this incessant motion 
would only have brought on a speedy catastrophe : for it 
would have set his brain in such a whirl, that he would 
strike at random — uncertainly, and therefore unsuccess- 
fully. But in these rapid marches and countermarches, 
with constant fighting, he never lost his head. Instead of 
his mind being confused by the incidents of battle, it was 
quickened to the utmost intensity of action. As long be- 
fore as the Mexican war, when conversing with his brother 
officers as to the effect of the danger of battle upon their 
spirits, he said that to him "it was always exalting, and 
that he was conscious of a more pei'fect command of his 
faculties, and of their more clear and rapid action, when 
under fire, than at any other time." 

One who had frequent occasion to see Jackson in all 
the vicissitudes of war, speaks thus of his " stoicism " : 

"Victory and defeat were received with the same degree of 
stolidity and unconcern. He never seemed elated by the one, 
nor depressed by the other. I saw him at the battle of Antie- 
tam, in the midst of the carnage, when the air was filled with 
flying shot and bursting shells ; and he sat upon his horse as 
unmoved as if he were on dress parade. As the Confederate 
losses were very great, Lee ordered a retreat across the Poto- 
mac — a movement which was a very critical one, as a swollen 
river was behind us, and the Fedei'al forces, directed by Mc- 
Clellan in person, were pressing us in front. Every moment 
added to the confusion. But during the whole scene Jackson 
maintained the same stoical demeanor. I watched his face 
and the expression of his eye. He gave his orders just as 
if all was going well, betraying no despondency, nor even any 
undue excitement. Again I have seen him where, as in his last 
effort at Chaneellorsville, he swept everything before him. But 
he showed no more elation in the hour of victory than of depres- 
sion in the hour of defeat. He contemplated both with the 
complacency of a Moslem, as if he were a child of destiny, or 
rather simply an instrument in the hand of the Almighty to 
execute His will." 



286 HIS STERN DISCIPLINE. 

Some wlio are disposed to be critical of gTeat military 
achievements, ascribe this marvellous success, not to the 
genius of Jackson, so much as to the weakness of those 
opposed to him ; and indeed it is hardly probable that 
he would have " careered " up and down the Valley so 
triumphantly, if instead of Banks and Fremont, he had 
struck Sheridan. But with all abatements, it must be 
confessed that he showed a wonderful capacity and vigor. 

Of course, his success could not have been obtained 
without rigid military discipline. While kind to his men, 
he would tolerate no disobedience. Once on a march, 
fearing lest his men might stray from the ranks and com- 
mit acts of pillage, he had issued an order that the soldiers 
should not enter private dwellings. Disregarding the 
order, a soldier entered a house, and even used insulting 
language to the women of the family. This was reported 
to Jackson, who had the man arrested, tried by drum-head 
court-martial, and shot in twenty minutes ! 

Again, three men had deserted, and were retaken and 
sentenced to death. Their old companions made every 
effort to save them, but Jackson was inexorable. To an 
officer who jDetitioned for their pardon, he answered sharjj- 
ly, " You ought to be ashamed of yourself ! Here are my 
brave men exposing their lives, and these cowards run 
away, and leave their eomrades to fight the battle alone." 
Then the chaplain tried a religious appeal, telling the Gen- 
eral that " if those men were shot, they would certainly go 
to hell!" "That is my business," said Jackson as he 
turned upon him with disgust, and seizing him by the 
shoulders, literally whirled him out of his presence. The 
■ men were shot the next morning. 

Indeed Jackson was perhaps a little too ready in these 
matters, presenting in this respect a contrast to Lee, who 
v/as always disposed to leniency. Once they were riding 



RELIANCE ON THE DIVINE WILL. 287 

together, wlien some cases of trespass were reported, at 
which Lee said, " We shall have to shoot some of these 
fellows yet." Instantly Jackson caught at the word, and 
said, " I will have them shot to-morrow," to which his 
commander answered in a way that showed that he did 
not mean to be taken in such grim earnest as to order his 
soldiers to immediate execution. 

But the most remarkable thing in this extraordinary 
man, was the union of the soldier and the saint. It was 
no ordinary faith that had possession of his mind : he 
lived and moved and had his being in God. No Eound- 
head of Cromwell, no ancient Crusader, had more absolute 
assurance that he was simply an agent of the Divine will. 
One who knew him well, says that " he was always praying 
when he was not fighting," two things which seem not to go 
together, yet that have been combined in some who were 
at once great soldiers and religious fanatics. Macaulay 
records the fanatical enthusiasm of one of Cromwell's 
Roundheads as, bursting out in a kind of holy frenzy, he 
exclaimed " Oh how good it is to pray and fight ! " So was 
it with Stonewall Jackson. In his view, a human being 
could no more stand in the way of a Divine decree than in 
the path of one of his own cannon balls. Sufficient for him 
was it that he cotdd be the humble agent of executing the 
Almighty will. If one had broken in upon his tent before 
he went into battle, he might have found him on his knees 
in an agony of prayer that God would give him the vic- 
tory ; those who rode beside him on the march, often 
observed that his lips were moving in silent prayer ; and 
when the battle was won, he always recognized it as not 
by his own wisdom or valor, but by the favor of that 
Almighty Ruler to whom he bowed again in humble 
thanksgiving. 

As he was so strict in his own religious habits, this 



288 HOW HE KEPT SUNDAY. 

modern Roundhead kept Sunday in the camp as if he had 
been at home. To be sure, he had sometimes to fight a 
battle on that day, but in that case he made it up by keep- 
ing another day in its stead. " Sometimes," said the Ma- 
jor, "he would keep two or three Sundays running, to 
make up for lost time, so as to balance the account ! " 

In the afternoon of the day we were riding up the 
Valley, we passed a beautiful grove which recalled some 
reminiscences to my companion. "In this very grove," he 
said, " we spent a Sabbath in the Summer of 1862. We 
had divine service, and all was as still as in any Sabbath- 
keeping village of New England. The tents were pitched 
under the trees ; and the soldiers were stretched on the 
ground, resting after the fatigues of their long marches 
and hard battles. The next day the General sat apart, 
brooding over something in his mind, but what it was he 
communicated to no one : for he never told his plans to 
anybody. Not a word did he whisper to me, though I 
shared his confidence as much as any one, and we often 
slept under the same blanket. Towards evening he sent 
for me, and asked to see the maps of the country towards 
Staunton, which I brought, and he pored over them a 
good while, and then said carelessly, 'By the way, they 
are having some fighting towards Richmond : have you 
any maps of the country there ? ' I brought them, and he 
looked at them, but without any sign of eagerness or mark 
of peculiar interest. About ten that night he called me 
and said, ' Please mount your horse and ride to such a 

point in the Valley, and tell Colonel M to go ahead ! ' 

It was pitch dark : but I picked my way over the blind 
roads, tiU about midnight I reached the place, and deliv- 
ered the order. I did not return until the next morning. 
About nine o'clock I reached the grove in which we had 
been encamped the day before, but not a soldier was to be 



AT CHANCELLORSVILLE. 289 

Been ! Every tent had been struck ; there was not an 
army-waggon, not a single piece of artillery, not a man, 
nor a gun. An army of 20,000 men had vanished as com- 
pletely as the host of Sennacherib when 

"The might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword, 
Had melted like snow in the glance of the Lord." 

It was all a riddle and a mystery, till, when it was ex- 
plained, it was seen to be a marvel of military genius and 
execution. The errand of my fiiend was to caiTy an order 
to the Colonel who was left in command in the Valley, to 
make a demonstration towards Winchester, to keep up 
the impression that the Valley was stiU to be the scene of 
important mihtary operations, while Jackson executed one 
of his astonishing marches, through a gap in the mountains, 
and when next heard from was striking the right wing of 
McClellan's army advancing towards Richmond! That 
flank attack was the blow that decided the fate of the 
Peninsula Campaign. 

But it would be too long a story to follow him in all 
his marches and battles. The Major was with him to his 
last and greatest victory at Chancellorsville : indeed as 
topographical engineer he had studied the position, and 
pointed out the opportunity which it presented for a 
great flank movement. That movement decided the day, 
the glory of which Lee justly ascribed to the "skill and 
energy" of Jackson. When the sun set on that day, it 
seemed as if the Confederates had gained a victory that 
might end the war. But Jackson never left a success 
incomplete, and even when night came on, and one could 
hardly distinguish fi'iend from foe, he was still pressing to 
the front, and even beyond his own lines, to find the posi- 
tion of the enemy, which he no sooner discovered than he 
ordered a new line of battle of fresh troojDS to be formed 
for immediate action ; and then riding back with his staflf 



290 THE FLANK MOVEMENT. 

and escort at full speed, the nish of horses was mistaken by 
the " new line of battle " that had been thrown across the 
road after he had ridden forward, for a charge of cavalry, 
and was fired upon by his own men.* It was an accident 

*An officer who took part in this flank movement, gives the 
following account of what passed under his own eyes, and of the 
circumstances of Jackson's death : 

" On Saturday morning General Lee and Stonewall Jackson came 
and sat down under a tree near where I was, with a map spread out 
between them. [The Major was one of that group, and adds yet 
more minute details of the scene. He says: " Lee and Jackson were 
seated on two empty cracker boxes, that had been left from the camp 
of the Federals, which had been pitched there the day before ; whUe 
on a third I had spread out a map that I had prepared, showing the 
whole position, with the direction of every road."] General Lee, with 
a pencil in hand, explained the position, and Jackson from time to 
time nodded assent, at the close of which Jackson called his chief-of- 
Btaff, Major Pendleton. A few moments later the troops were moving 
off at double-quick in an entirely unlooked-for direction. As each 
regiment passed, Jackson said a few hurried words to the command- 
ing officer. To me he said : ' Detail a strong guard, and keep your 
own position with them behind your men. Bayonet any stragglers, 
and keep the ranks closed up.' In addition to this precaution, he 
kept a squadron of cavalry in the rear, to keep the men up in the 
march. Thus urged on, the column moved forward silently but 
rapidly for nine miles, with only three halts to catch breath. 

"The first intimation that I had that we were in the presence 
of the enemy, was the sight of deserted camp-fires, dressed beeves, 
coffee-pots, and steaks still broiling on the gridiron. This was a 
tempting sight to our men, who were always poorly fed and very 
hungry, but they could not stop, and each man grabbed what he 
could and kept on. One man attempted to dispose of the whole of a 
beefsteak as he ran, and others drank at double-quick from the 
spouts of steaming coffee-pots. 

" The next sight which greeted us, was a long line of knapsacks 
stacked up in pUes behind the Federal rifle-pits, in front of which had 



HE IS WOUNDED. 291 

that might have happened on either side in the gathering 
gloom. He feU from his horse into the arms of one of his 
staff, and was found to be wounded in two places, in his 
right hand and in his left arm. Both were at once tied up 
to stop the flow of blood ; but such was the confusion that 
it was some time before a stretcher could be brought to 
carry him to the rear, where he could receive proper 
attention. At length it came, and the bearers raised up 
their beloved chief, but had gone only a few steps when 
one of them was killed by a shot of cannister from a 
Federal battery, and he was thrown to the ground with a 
violence that caused him intense agony. Again he was 
lifted up and started on his way. Meanwhile the Major 
had gone for the surgeon. Dr. McGuii-e, who took him in 
an ambulance to the rear, where he found the arm so 
shattered that it must be amputated immediatel}', to 
which the General submitted with his usual fortitude. 

But the wound was considered by no means fatal. 
Nothing was needed but care and rest. That he might 

been left a line of Confederate skirmishers and sharp-shooters, to 
deceive the enemy with a show of attack in front, who were only ap- 
prised of the change of base, as Jackson's ubiquitous and irresistible 
' StonewaU Brigade ' came charging down upon them from the rear ! 
" Towards evening I had deployed my regiment as skirmishers, 
when a squadron of Federal cavalry rode right into our midst, and 
we bagged them to the last man. Just then Jackson rode up with a 
few staff officers, and said, ' Colonel, fire at anything that comes from 
that direction ! ' This order, which it was my fortune to receive, was 
the last StonewaU Jackson ever gave. He then rode on to reconnoitre 
the position of the enemy. Later my regiment was relieved by one of 
the North Carolina infantry, to whose Colonel I repeated Jackson's 
order. In a few moments Jackson and his staff and escort came 
riding back rapidly, and the men of this regiment mistook them, as it 
was then dark, for another squadron of Federal cavalry, and fired ! " 



292 HIS DEATH. 

be away from the noise of the camp, and in a place of 
safety, he was carried a few miles across the country to 
a private house west of Fredericksbvu-g, near Guiney's 
Station, which was pointed out to me as we came up from 
Richmond. Here for a few days he seemed to be on the 
road to recovery. The Major, who accompanied him 
thither, found him the following day cheerful and hopeful. 
Indeed, with his strong religious faith, he felt that he could 
not die, for he was sure that " the Lord had more for him 
to do," and he fully expected to get well, and to take part 
in the camj)aign. But even then he would not let those 
around him j)ray for his recovery, except in entire submis- 
sion to the Divine will, and that will had decreed otherwise. 
The shock had been very great fi-om his double wound, 
with the loss of blood, the fall from the litter, and the 
amputation ; and when, after aU this, pneumonia set in, 
the end was inevitable. 

It was on the Sabbath day that he saw the light for the 
last time. He said "I have always desired to die on 
Sunday," and his wish was granted. The sun rose 
brightly that morning — the tenth of May, 1863 — and 
though he had been told that this day would be his last, 
he would not keep his chaplain at his bedside, but insisted 
that he should go to headquarters, and preach as usual. 
It was a sorrowful service, for all hearts were bowed with 
a sense of the great loss that was impending. When it 
closed. General Lee inquired eagerly for the latest news, 
and when told that Jackson could not live through the 
day, he turned away, unable to control his emotion. Even 
then he was passing through the valley of the shadow 
of death. He stiU breathed, but his mind was wandering. 
Perhaps a gleam fi'om the river of life caught his dying eje, 
as he murmured faintly, " Let us cross over the river, and 
rest under the trees," and the strong, brave heart stood still. 



BURIED AT LEXINGTON. 293 

The death of Jackson caused universal mom^ning 
throughout the Confederacy, where he was regarded as the 
greatest of the Southern leaders, with the exception only 
of General Lee. It took away aU the exultation of Chan- 
cellorsviUe. As the Commander-in-chief himself said, 
"Any victory would he too dear at such a price." It 
was but a melancholy consolation to pay the highest 
honors to his memory. The body was borne to Richmond 
and laid in state in the Capitol, where tens of thousands 
thronged to look for the last time on the face that they had 
seen so often amid the smoke and thunder of battle ; and 
then they carried him away to his last resting-place among 
the hiUs which he so much loved. Spending Sunday in 
Lexington, I went to the church where Jackson had wor- 
shipped for ten years, after which two of the Professors 
who had been associated with him, took me to the spot 
where he rests. It is on a hiU-top, looking down into the 
peaceful valley, beyond which rise the everlasting hills. 
"As the mountains are round about Jerusalem," so are 
they round about Lexington, and no saint or soldier could 
desire a better spot in which to lie down and sleep till the 
heavens be no more. 

In the opinion of many the death of Jackson was a fatal 
blow to the Confederacy. No one felt the loss so much as 
General Lee, when two months later, he fought the battle 
of Gettysburg, the result of which might have been victory 
if his " right arm " had not been taken from him. But 
that was not to be. The Ruler of Nations had ordained a 
different issue — a fact which we have to recognize, even if 
we cannot explain. It is not necessary to go quite so far 
as a good priest of New Orleans, an ardent Confederate, a 
chaplain of one of Jackson's Louisiana regiments, who felt 
called upon, in a prayer at the unveiling of a monument to 
Jackson, to offer an excuse for the Almighty, which he did 



294 HIS DAUGHTER LAID BESIDE HIM. 

in this remarkable address to tlie Throne of grace : " When 
in Thine inscrutable decree it was ordained that the Confed- 
eracy should not succeed, it became necessary for Thee to 
remove Stonewall Jackson! " But we need not inquire into 
the purposes of Him with whom are the issues of life and 
death. Without attempting what does not belong to us, 
we can recognize the great qualities of the heroic dead, 
and on this day of peace, beautiful as the Sabbath on 
which he died, I would place a flower on the grave of 
Stonewall Jackson. 

Six months passed, and I visited Lexington again, and 
once more turned aside to stop at the gate of the old Cem- 
etery, and walked along the path trodden by so many feet, 
to the well known spot which attracts so many jDilgrims. 
I found beside it a new made grave, which had been open- 
ed but a few days before to receive the only daughter of 
Stonewall Jackson, who was but a babe when her father 
died, and was brought to him in his last moments to be 
laid ujDon his bed to receive a last fond caress. Little 
seemed it then that she would be with him again so soon. 
But with gentle footsteps she, like the true daughter that 
she was, has followed him till she too has " passed over the 
river"; and now the warrior and his child, forgetting all 
the sorrows of this troubled life, " rest together under the 
trees " in the Paradise of God. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

THE LAST YEARS OF GENERAL LEE. 

"The last hope of the Confederacy was dead when 
Stonewall Jackson was laid in his grave at Lexington ! " 
So said the Major after he had taken the greater part of a 
day in detaihng to me, to my intense interest, the marvel- 
lous career of that great soldier. But not so reasoned all 
those who had fought by Jackson's side. Not so Jackson 
himself : for when, on hearing of his wound, Lee wrote to 
him, " Could I have directed events, I should have chosen, 
for the good of the country, to have been disabled in your 
stead," he answered, " No, no ! Better that ten Jacksons 
should fall than one Lee ! " And now, though Jackson 
was dead, Lee still lived, and hope Hved with him ; vic- 
tory was still possible ; and in that faith, and under that 
leadership, the Confederates fought on for two years more. 
(Jackson died on the 10th of May, 1863 ; but Lee did not 
surrender tiU the 9th of April, 1865.) How well they fought 
is matter of history. They fought as they could not have 
fought, had they not been led by a great Commander. 
From the very beginning of his military career, aU around 
him recognized his extraordinary capacity. General Scott, 
with whom he served in Mexico, pronounced him " the very 



296 THE WAR WAS OVER. 

best soldier that he ever saw in the Jield." But the greatest 
proof of his ability was when he did not serve under any- 
body, but planned his own campaigns. Some military 
critics I know assume to criticize him even here. To such 
I have only to say that it is a very poor compliment to our 
leaders and our armies, to question the ability of one who, 
with less than half the numbers,* kept back for two years 
the tremendous forces of the North that were pressing in 
on every side. "Whatever others may say of General Lee, 
the great soldiers who fought against him, fully concede 
his splendid military genius. 

But it is not my purpose to speak of his military 
career. That belongs to history. " The world knows it 
by heart." But there is a chapter in that life which the 
world does not know so well, which ought to be told, to 
the greater honor of the illustrious dead. 

The war was over. The Northern armies had returned 
victorious, while the veterans of the South, defeated but 
not dishonored, took their way back to their desolate 
homes. The army disbanded and dispersed, what should 
its leader do? His old ancestral home, standing on that 
noble height which looks down on the Potomac, and 
across to the dome of the Capitol, was in the hands of 
those against whom he had been fighting for fovir years, 
and had even been tiu'ned into a national cemetery, in 
which slept thousands of the Union dead, whose very 
ghosts might rise up against his retiu-n. But if he was an 
exile from his own home, there were thousands of others 

*When the surrender took place, almost the first question 
which General Meade asked General Lee, was "How many 
men had you at Petersburg and in your lines, when they were 
broken ? " "Forty thousand," was the reply. " I am amazed," 
said Meade, "and could not believe it, if it were not you that 
said it." 



HE CLINGS TO VIRGINIA. 297 

open to him all over the South, and across the sea, where 
his fame had gone before him, and would have made him 
a welcome gTiest in princely halls. But such a flight from 
his country (for so he would have regarded it) was impos- 
sible to one of his chivalrous spirit. He had cast in his 
lot with his people : they had believed in him and followed 
him, as they thought, to certain triumph ; he would not 
desert them in the day of their adversity. 

Of coiu'se, had he been willing to listen to them, he 
could have received any number of "business" proposals. 
Rich moneyed corjDorations would have been glad to "re- 
tain" him at any price as President or Director, so that 
they covdd have the benefit of his great name. One, it is 
said, offered him $50,000 a year. But he was not to be 
allured by such temptations. The very fact that they were 
couj)led with offers of money, was reason enough why he 
should reject them all, as he did without a moment's hesi- 
tation. Nor could he be lured by any military proposals. 
Maximilian offered to place him at the head of his army if 
he would go to Mexico, thinking that his genius might save 
the fortunes of the falling empire. But he would not accept 
any exOe, however splendid. His answer was " I love the 
mountains of Virginia still." His work must be at home, 
for work he must have. After his active life he could not 
sink down into idleness. With his mihtary career ended, 
he must find a new career in civil life. Besides, he had a 
proud spirit of independence, which would not permit him 
to live on the bounty of the rich at home, or the titled 
abroad. He would " work for a living," like the poorest 
of his soldiers. 

At length came a proposal that seemed most alien to 
his former pursuits : that the Commander of the Southern 
Armies should become the President of a College ! And 
yet this change from a military to an academic career, was 



298 COMES TO LEXINGTON. 

not so violent as it might seem. He had been for three 
years Superintendent of the MiHtary Academy at "West 
Point, where he was associated with young men, an inti- 
macy which was continued during the whole period that 
he was in the army. He was at home among students, 
for he had been a student, and gone thi'oixgh all the 
stages of scholarly discipline. Besides, the position of the 
College to which he was invited, in Lexington, Virginia, 
was attractive to him. It was remote from cities, among 
the mountains, and yet within the limits of that Old 
Dominion which he looked upon as his mother. 

"When it was known that he had accepted the position, 
his coming was looked for with great eagerness by the 
jDeople of Lexington ; but he did not fix the time, as he 
wished to avoid any public demonstration. But it had 
been arranged that wheii he came, he should spend a few 
days in the hos^Ditable dwelling in which I was so fortunate 
as to be a guest. While thus in expectancy, the Professor 
was one day taking a walk, when he saw riding up the 
street a figure that he instantly recognized as the same 
that had been so often seen at the head of the army ; and 
to make the picture perfect, he was mounted on his old 
war-horse — a magnificent iron-gray called "Traveller" — 
that had so often borne his master through the smoke of 
battle. He wore no military uniform, nor sign of rank, 
but a light Summer di'ess, while a broad Panama hat 
shaded a face that no one could mistake. Advancing 
towards him, the Professor told of the arrangements for 
his entertainment till he could be established in a house 
for himself, and led the way to his home. 

Naturally my friend's family were at first somewhat 
awed by the presence of their illustrious guest. But this 
was soon dissipated by his simple and unaffected manner. 
What "broke the ice" most completely was his manner 



PRESIDENT OF A COLLEGE. 299 

with the children. He was always very fond of the little 
people,* and as soon as they appeared, "Uncle Robert," 
as he was affectionately called in the army, had them in 
his arms and on his knees, till they soon felt perfectly at 
home with him. They " captured " him at once, and he 
" captui'ed " them, and in this captured their parents also. 
From that moment all constraint disappeared, though 
nothing could ever take from the profound respect and 
veneration with which they looked up to " General Lee." 

This was in September, 1865, and on the 2d of October, 
after solemn prayer by the venerable Dr. White, he took 
the oeth of office, as required by the laws of the College, 
and thus became its President. Natvirally his name drew 
great numbers of students, not only from Virginia, but 
from all parts of the South, who were eager to "serve" 
under such a leader, and the number of undergraduates 
rose from a hundred and fifty to over four hundred. 

From this some may imagine that he was expected to 
be, and that he was, a mere figure-head to the Institution. 
No mistake could be gTeater. From the moment that he 
took the office, he applied himself to its duties with con- 
scientious fidelity. He did not teach in the classes, though 
he might have taught in any department, for he was an 
excellent scholar, both in classics and in mathematics ; but 
like a good soldier, he wished to take his place where he 
could be the most useful, and clearly his office was that of 
general superintendence. He visited all the class-rooms, 
not in regular course, but coming when not expected, and 
followed each professor in his lecture, generally asking 

* This love of children, and other domestic traits, are very 
beautifully depicted in an article in the Century Magazine for 
June, 1889, by Mrs. Margaret J. Preston, a personal friend as 
well as neighbor of General Lee during all the time of his resi- 
dence in Lexington. 



300 HIS GENTLENESS IN REBUKE. 

some questions at the close. He informed himself of the 
standing of each student, and the rules of study were as 
rigid as mihtary discipline, the alternative being " study or 
the plough"! If any college boy was idle, or disposed to 
shii'k his books, he was summoned to the President's office 
for a gentle admonition — so gentle indeed, that when he 
came away, his fellow students were apt to say, " Who said 
' Good-morning ' first ? " — that is, " Did you know when 
General Lee was done with you ? " 

One gift he had which stood him in good stead at the 
head of a College as at the head of an army : he understood 
in perfection the art of administering rebuke in a way to 
be effective, and yet not to leave too deep a sting. In this 
there could be no greater difference between two men than 
there was between Lee and Jackson, which had frequent 
illustration in the army in the way they showed their dis- 
pleasure at one particular form of rudeness. I hope it will 
not be set down as a mark of disloyalty to their native 
State, that they did not pay tribute to its chief staple, 
tobacco, which neither of them took, or could tolerate, in 
any form. Both had a positive dislike to it, which they 
did not hesitate to express, though each in a characteristic 
way. If an oil&cer came into Jackson's presence, puffing 
the smoke of a cigar in his face, he was very likely to get 
a rough salutation, which sent him to the right about in 
double quick time, and taught him better manners in the 
future. But General Lee could not administer a rebuke 
except in a coTU*tly way. If an officer rode up to deliver a 
message, or in military phrase, to make a report, and the 
General perceived that he had a cigar in his mouth, or 
even in his hand, he would not mortify him by a sharp 
thrust, but turn the point of his own rapier by a compli- 
ment. If, on a glance at the shoulder-straps of the new 
comer, he perceived that he was a Major, he would address 



HIS INFLUENCE OVER YOUNG MEN. 301 

him as " Colonel," thus putting him a peg higher in mili- 
taxy rant, and then add in his blandest manner, as if to 
relieve him from embarrassment, " I will excuse you till 
you have finished your cigar," a gentle reminder that he 
had forgotten the courtesy due to his superior, which, 
while it did not wound his pride so oj^enly, touched his 
sense of propriety not less than the blunt and somewhat 
scornful reprimand of Stonewall Jackson, 

In one respect his influence was immeasurable. Every 
man in the South looked up to General Lee as the highest 
type of manhood, and his very presence was an inspiration. 
This is the influence which young men feel more than any 
other — that inspired by intense admiration — an influence 
that Avould have been very potent for evil if the object of 
their admiration had been merely a great soldier, dazzling 
them by his genius, but destitute of high principle. Had 
that been the case, his influence would have been as 
demorahzing as now it was elevating, since his superiority 
in all other respects was united with a character that was 
so gentle and so good. 

That he might reach the young men in College, he 
sought their acquaintance, instead of standing apart in icy 
dignity. Prof. White tells me that, if they were walking 
together in the grounds, and a student was seen approach- 
ing, he would ask who he was, and when he came up, 
instead of passing him with a stiff and stately bow, would 
stop and call him by name, and ask about his family and 
his studies, and speak a few words of encouragement, 
w^hich the young man would not forget to his dying day. 
To be under the authority and influence of such a man, 
was an education in manUness. There was not a student 
who did not feel it, and to whom it was not the highest 
ambition to be guided by such a leader, to be infused with 
his spirit, and to follow his example. 



302 IMPORTANCE GIVEN TO RELIGION. 

From the first he attached great importance in any 
system of education to Rehgion. He was himself a devout 
member of the Episcopal Church, and no one was more 
regular in attendance on its services. No one knelt with 
more huniihty in the house of God, or responded more 
fervently to the prayers. But it was not merely because 
he found his own personal comfort in this faith or worship 
that he desired it for others. He beheved that Religion 
lies at the foundation of all that is worthy to be called 
character. In his long mihtary hfe, Avhich was of neces- 
sity a public one, he had seen a great deal of men of the 
world — men of society, men of fashion — and he knew 
how all this outward grace might cover the meanest self- 
ishness and the blackest heart. He had come to feel more 
and more that one could not be truly great who was not 
truly good ; that life was not given for pleasure only, but 
that it had grave responsibilities ; and he wished his 
young men to recognize that they had duties to others as 
well as to themselves, and that the truest heroism was in 
self-forgetfulness and self-deaial. This type of character, 
he knew, could not be formed on mere sentiment : it could 
be iuspii'ed only by a profound religious faith ; and so he 
esteemed it as above aU science to "know God." If he 
had been the College pastor, he could not have been more 
earnest that his large household should be infused with 
spiritual hfe ; and hence he often expressed to the pastors 
of the churches around him his desire for " a revival " in 
the CoUege ; that the young men should go out, not only 
thoroughly educated, but having in them the elements of 
a strong religious character. 

Soon after he came to Lexington a house was built for 
him in the row of the College buildings. It is a very plain 
brick house, with nothing pretentious without or within. 
Here he lived the life of a modest country gentleman, 



HIS CAUTION IN SPEAKING OF OTHERS. 303 

seldom going away from home, and tlien only to the White 
Sulphur Springs, or some other quiet resting place. Now 
and then he paid a visit to his old home in Richmond, and 
once or twice to Baltimore. Once he was called to Wash- 
ington to give testimony before a Committee of Congress, 
when he was received by General Grant, who was then 
President, with the distinction which belonged to him. 
But he never went North, and indeed with these excep- 
tions, scarcely went beyond the bounds of his own beloved 
Virginia. Accustomed in the field to the saddle, he still 
loved the exercise, and was often seen riding over the hills 
aroiind Lexington, either alone, or accompanied by one of 
his daughters. He was fond of plain country people, and 
delighted to rein up by the roadside, and talk with the 
farmers about their farms and their crops ; and no painter 
or poet could enjoy more intensely the beauties of nature, 
the hills and valleys, the woods and waters, the sun-risings 
and sun-settings. 

Of course, wherever he went he was an object of curi- 
osity, and sometimes it required all his tact to parry the 
advances of those who inti'uded upon him. Some with 
more eagerness than politeness, asked him questions about 
his battles, even his opinion of the officers who served 
under him, or those who fought against him. To such 
questions he always made a courteous reply, even while 
avoiding a direct answer, for while he was too modest to 
speak of himself and what he had done, he was very reti- 
cent in speaking of other military men in either army. 
He knew that whatever fell from his lips would be repeat- 
ed, and not always as he said it, but with a change of 
words, or in a different tone of voice, that might give it 
quite another meaning. Indeed with all his caution, he 
was often quoted as saying what he did not say. As an 
illustration, Prof. White told me that a story had gone the 



304 HE WRITES NO MEMOIRS. 

rounds of the papers to tlie effect that in a conversation 
Gen. Lee had brought his clenched hand down on the table, 
to give emphasis to his utterance, as he said, " If I had had 
Stonewall Jackson with me I should have w^on the battle of 
Gettysburg and established the Southern Confederacy!" 
"Now," said the Professor, "without ever asking him, I 
know that such an occurrence never took place, for in the 
first place General Lee never 'brought his hand down on 
the table ' — he was not that sort of man — it is impossible 
to conceive of him as using any violence of gestiu'e or of 
language. And as to Stonewall Jackson, while he did feel 
keenly the absence of that great corj)S-commander, he was 
not the man to indvdge in sweeping and positive state- 
ments ; he never spoke with such absolute assurance of 
anything, but always with a degree of reserve, as once^ 
when we were riding together, he said in his usual guard- 
ed and cautious manner : ' If I had had Stonewall Jackson 
with me— so far as man can see — I should have won the 
battle of Gettysburg.' So careful was he to put in this 
qualification : for he always recognized an overruling 
Power that may disappoint the wisest calculations, and 
defeat the most careful combinations of courage and skill." 
To the same habit of reserve we must ascribe it, at 
least in part, that he never wrote anything in regard to his 
own military career. The fi'iend to whom I have referred 
so often. Major Jed. Hotchkiss, writes me that " it was the 
intention of General Lee to write his ' Memoirs,' foUowing 
the example of his father, 'Light Horse Harry' of the 
Revolution ; but that his private papers were all burned 
by a foolish guard, who was left in charge of his waggon, 
and who, when it was about to be captured, set fire to 
it, thus destroying the records which would furnish the 
most accurate information. Still he did not relinquish 
his purpose, but began collecting materials for it, and ask- 



A GREAT LOSS TO HISTORY. 305 

ed me to prepare the maps to illustrate his campaigns. I 
went to Washington for him to get copies of his reports 
from the captui'ed archives, but they -woiild not let him 
have them then ; and afterwards, when they were more 
willing, his health had given way, and it was too late." 
This is a great loss to history. Of course whatever papers 
were captured at Bichmond, and transferred to Washing- 
ton, may still be preserved to furnish the materials of 
history. But it is not the same thing to have these materi- 
als "worked up" by some future historian, as to have 
them used by the very man who dictated these orders and 
despatches. There is a fascination in the story of a great 
war told by one who was a chief actor in it. Caesar wrote 
his own Commentaries : and the conversations of Napoleon 
at St. Helena furnish invaluable materials for the history 
of that great soldier. So with our General Grant. No 
man was more modest, or more reserved and shy, and it 
was only the pressure of sudden disaster overwhelming 
his household that forced oui" Ulysses the Silent to break 
thi-ough his accustomed reserve, and tell a story that, 
though told with a soldier-like simjilicity, is of marvellous 
interest. So it would have been a priceless contribution 
to history if we could have had the other side of our civil 
war told by the pen of General Lee. Had he but opened 
his lips, the whole world would have listened to the thrill- 
ing stoiy. But he may well have been reluctant, not alone 
because of want of materials or failing health, but also 
because it would bring back too many painful memories. 
Even a soldier's courage might hesitate to renew the an- 
guish that was being softened by time ; to call up again 
the hopes and fears that belonged to what was irrevocably 
past. And if he had written, he would have had to pass 
judgment on his old companions-in-arms, the hving and 
the dead — an ungrateful task, from which he, with his ex- 



306 HIS HOME IN LEXINGTON. 

treme reluctance to give pain, might well shrink. And so 
he died and made no sign. 

With all this in mind, I went to the house where he 
lived and died. It is occupied by his son, General Custis 
Lee, who succeeded him as President of the College — a 
man of such extreme modesty that only those who know 
him intimately know his real worth : how much there is in 
him of his illustrious father. I had a letter to him from 
the Hon. John Randolph Tucker, and he received me with 
great kindness, and showed me the house, which, plain as 
it is, has its treasures. As he is the great-grandson of Mrs. 
Custis, who after the death of her first husband became 
the wife of Washington, he has inherited many household 
articles which belonged to the Father of his Country — 
the old family plate on the side board, and the old family 
pictvu'es hanging on the wall. But of even more interest is 
whatever is connected with General Lee — the home in 
which he lived for five years — the chamber in which he 
slept ; the libraiy in which he received his friends ; the 
books around him ; the table at which he wrote ; and the 
dining-room in which he died ; for it was here, whUe 
standing at the head of his table, in the very act of asking 
a blessing, that he received the fatal stroke. As he sank 
into his chair, those around him caught him and raised 
him up, and brought a bed and placed him upon it, but 
did not attempt to carry him to his room. Here he lay 
for two weeks, between life and death, saying but little, 
though conscious apparently that the end was approach- 
ing. One who watched with him. Colonel Preston John- 
ston, has described the scene, as he " lay in the darkened 
room, with the lamp and the hearth-fire casting shadows 
upon his noble face," so calm and peaceful with the greater 
shadow that now rested upon it. "Once in the solemn 
watches of the night," he says, "when I handed him the 



HIS DEATH : RECUMBENT STATUE. 307 

prescribed nourishment, he turned upon me with a look of 
friendly recognition, and then cast down his eyes with 
such a sadness in them as I can never forget. But he 
spoke not a word : not because he was unable — for at times 
he did speak brief sentences with distinct enunciation* — 
but because he saw (before the family or friends or physi- 
cian) the portals of death opening to him, and chose to 
wrap himself in an unbroken silence as he went down to 
enter them." Thus he lingered till on the morning of the 
12th of October, 1870, the tolling bells announced to the 
sorrowing community that he had breathed his last. 

From the house it is but a few rods across the College 
grounds to the chapel, in the rear of which is a recess, 
where lies a recumbent statue of the great leader. It is 
in marble, and represents the soldier at full length, as we 
have seen in old cathedi-als the bronze effigies of those 
whose crossed limbs tell how they took up arms for the 
Cross, and fought for the recovery of the Holy Sepulchre 
at Jerusalem. But it is no mailed Crusader that is 
stretched upon the tomb : for the hand that once grasped 
the sword, is folded on the breast, and the whole impres- 
sion is one of profound repose. It is a heroic figure, fuU 
of strength, as of a warrior taking his rest, and yet over all 
there is an exjDression of calm, as of one with whom the 
battle of life is over ; who hears no more the morning 
drum-beat or the trumpet's call : 

" He sleeps his last sleep ; he has fought his last battle ; 
No sound shall awake him to glory again." 

* This was probably in the earlier part of his illness, or it 
later, could only have been at intervals, for General Custis Lee, 
who was constantly at his father's bedside, says that he " made 
repeated efforts to speak to him, but could not from utter ex- 
haustion and weakness." So it was that the wave of life kept 
moving to and fro, sometimes being strong enough for utter- 
ance, and then ebbing too fast for the lips to move. 



308 THE CHARACTER OF LEE. 

While standing here, in the very presence of death, 
I am moyed to say a few words in regard to the life that 
ended in this tomb, and the character of the man whose 
name it bears. As I read history, and comj^are the 
men who have figured in the events that make history 
— in wars and revolutions — it seems to me that Genei'al 
Lee was not only a great soldier, but a great man, one of 
the greatest that our country has produced. After his 
death, the College which had hitherto borne the name of 
"Washington, by whom it was endowed, was re christened 
" Washington and Lee University " — a combination which 
suggests a comparison of the two men whose names are 
here brought together. Can we trace any likeness between 
them ? At first it seems as if no characters, as well as no 
careers, could be more alien to each other, than those of 
the two great leaders, one of whom was the Founder of 
the Government which the other did his utmost to destroy. 
But nature brings forth her children in strange couples, 
with resemblances in some cases as marked, and yet as 
unexpected, as are contrasts in others. Washington and 
Lee, though born in different centuries, were childi'en of 
the game mother. Old Virginia, and had her best blood 
in their veins. Descended from the stock of the English 
Cavaliers, both were born gentlemen, and never could be 
anything else. Both were trained in the school of war, 
and as leaders of armies it would not be a violent assump- 
tion to rank Lee as the equal of Washington. But it is not 
in the two soldiers, but in the two men, that the future 
historian will find points of resemblance. 

Washington was not a brilliant man ; not a man of 
genius, such as now and then appears to dazzle mankind ; 
but he had what was far better than genius — a combina- 
tion of all the qualities that win human trust ; in which 
intelligence is so balanced by judgment, and exalted by 



HIS MAGNANIMITY. 309 

character, as to constitute a natural superiority ; indicat- 
ing one wlio is born to command, and to whom all men 
turn, when their hearts are " failing them for fear," as a 
leader. He was great not only in action, but in repose : 
great in his very calm — in the fortitude with which he bore 
himself through all changes of fortune, through dangers 
and disasters, neither elated by victory nor depressed by 
defeat — mental habitudes which many will recognize as 
reappearing in one who seems to have formed himself 
upon that great model. 

Washington was distinguished for his magnanimity, a 
virtue in which no one more closely followed him than Lee. 
Men in public station are apt to be sensitive to whatever 
concerns their standing before the world ; and so, while tak- 
ing to themselves the credit of success, they are strongly 
tempted to throw upon others the blame of failure. Sol- 
diers especially are jealous of their reputation ; and if a 
commander loses a battle, his first impulse is to cast the 
odium of defeat upon some unfortunate officer. Some- 
body blundered ; this or that subordinate did not do his 
duty. Military annals are filled with these recriminations. 
If Napoleon met with a check in his mighty plans, he had 
no scruple in laying it to the misconduct of some lieuten- 
ant, unless as in Russia, he could throw it upon the ele- 
ments, the wintiy snows and the fi'ozen rivers — anything 
to relieve himself from the imputation of the want of 
foresight, or provision for unexpected danger. At Water- 
loo it was not he that failed in his strategy, but Marshal 
Ney that failed in the execution. In this respect. General 
Lee was exactly his ojjposite. If he suffered a disaster, 
he never sought to evade responsibility by placing it uj)on 
others. Even in the greatest reverse of his hfe, the defeat 
at Gettysburg, when he saw the famous charge of Pickett 
melt away under the terrible fire that swept the field, till 



310 CARES LITTLE FOR FAME. 

the ranks were literally torn in pieces by shot and shell, 
he did not vent his despair in rage and reproaches, but 
rushing to the front, took the blame upon himself, saying, 
"It is all my fault." Perhaps no incident of his life showed 
more the nobility of his nature. 

When the war was over. General Lee had left to him at 
Lexington about the same number of years that Napoleon 
had at St. Helena ; and if he had had the same desire to 
pose for posterity in the part of the illustrious exile, his 
mountain home would have furnished as picturesque a 
background as the rocky Island in the South Atlantic, from 
which he could have dictated " Conversations " that should 
fvuTiish the materials of history. He need not have written 
or pubHshed a single line, if he had only been wiUing to 
let others do it for him. By their pens he had oppor- 
tunity to tell of the great part he had acted in the war, in 
a way to make the whole chain of events contribute to his 
fame. But he seemed to care little for fame, and indeed 
was unmoved when others claimed the credit of his victo- 
ries. If it be, as Pascal says, " the truest mark of a great 
mind to be born without envy," few men in history have 
shown more of this greatness than he. And when, as was 
sometimes the case, old companions-in-arms reflected upon 
him to excuse their own mistakes, he had only to lift the 
veil from the secrets of history to confound them. But 
under all such temptations, he was dumb. Nothing that 
he did or said was more truly grand than the silence with 
which he bore the misrepresentations of friend and foe. 
This required a self-command such as Washington had not 
to exercise at the end of his miUtary career : for he retired 
from the scene crowned with victory, with a whole nation 
at his feet ready to do him honor ; while Lee had to bear 
the reproach of the final disaster — a reproach in which 
friends sometimes joined with foes. Yet to both he 



now HE SEEMED TO HIS NEIGHBORS. 311 

answered only with the same majestic calm, the outward 
sign of his inward self-control. Such magnanimity belongs 
to the very highest order of moral qualities, and shows a 
character rai-e in any country or in any age. 

This impression of the man does not grow less with 
closer observation. With the larger number of "historical 
characters," the greatness is magnified by distance and 
separation. As we come nearer they dwindle in stature, 
tiU, when we are in their very presence, and look them 
squarely in the face, they are found to be but men hke 
oiu'selves, and sometimes very ordinary men — with some 
sjDCcial abihty perhaps, which gives them success in the 
world, but who for all that are full of the selfishness which 
is the very essence of meanness, and puffed up with a 
paltry conceit and vanity that stamps them as little rather 
than great. 

Far different was the impression made by General Lee 
upon those who saw him in the freedom of private inter- 
coiurse. It might be expected that the soldiers who fought 
under him, should speak with admiration and pride of 
their old Commander ; but how did he appear to his 
neighbors? Here in Lexington everybody knew him, at 
least by sight ; they saw his manner of life from day to 
day, in his going out and his coming in ; and to aU the 
impression was the same : the nearer he came to them the 
greater he seemed. Every one has some anecdote to tell 
of him, and it is always of something that was noble and 
lovable. Those who knew him best, loved him most and 
revered him most. This was not a greatness that was put 
on, like a military cloak : it was in the man, and cotdd not 
be put on or put off ; it was the greatness which comes 
from the very absence of pretension. 

And those who came the closest to him, give us a stiU 
further insight into his nature, by telling us that what 



312 FEELING FOR THE SOUTHERN PEOPLE. 

struck them ino.st, was the extent of his sympathy. Sol- 
diers are commonly supposed to be cold aud hard — a 
temper of mind to which they are inured by their very 
profession. Those whose business is the shedding of 
blood, are thought to delight in human suifering. It is 
hard to believe that a soldier can have a very tender heart. 
Yet few men were more sensitive to others' pain than Gen- 
eral Lee. All who came near him perceived that with his 
manly strength, there was united an almost womanly 
sweetness. It was this gentleness which made him great, 
and which has enshrined him forever in the hearts of his 
jpeople. 

This sympathy for the suffering showed itself, not in 
any public act so much as a more private and delicate 
office which imposed uj)on him a very heavy burden — one 
that he might have declined, but the taking of which 
showed the man. He had an unlimited correspondence. 
Letters poured in upon him by the hundred and the 
thousand. They came from all joarts of the South, not 
only from his old companions-in-arms, but fi'om those he 
had never seen or heard of. Every mother that had lost 
a son in the war, felt that she had the right to pour her 
sorrow into the ear of one who was not insensible to her 
grief. Families left in utter poverty appealed to him for 
aid. Most men would have shrunk from a labor so great 
as that of answering these letters. Not so General Lee. 
He read them, not only patiently, as a man performs a 
disagi'eeable duty, but with a tender interest, and so far as 
was possible, retiu'ued the kindest answers. If he had 
little money to give, he could at least give sympathy, and 
to his old soldiers and their wives and children it was 
more than money to know that they had a jDlace in that 
great heart. 

While thus ministering to his stricken people, there is 



HIS SERVICE TO THE WHOLE COUNTRY. 313 

one public benefit wliich lie rendered that ought never to 
be forgotten. Though the war was over, he stiU stood in 
public relations in which he could render an immeasura- 
ble service to the whole country. There are no crises in a 
nation's life more perilous than those following civil war. 
The peace that comes after it is peace only in name, if the 
passions of the war still live. After our great struggle, 
the South was fuU of inflammable materials. The fires 
were but smouldering in ashes, and might break out at 
any moment, and rage with destructive fury. If the spirit 
of some had had full swing, the passions of the war would 
have been not only perpetuated, but increased, and have 
gone down as an inheritance of bitterness from genera- 
tion to generation. This stormy sea of passion but one 
man could control. He had no official position, civil or 
military. But he was the representative of the Lost 
Cause. He had led the Southern armies to battle, and he 
still had the unbounded confidence of millions ; and it was 
his attitude and his words of conciliation that did more 
than anything else to still the angry tempest that the 
war had left behind. A soldier in every drop of his blood, 
he accepted the result, not with muttered imprecations on 
his lips, but frankly and honestly, like the brave man that 
he was ; and fi'om the hour of siirrender, acknowledged 
it to be his place to be henceforth a true and loyal citizen 
of the Republic. As the war had been ended in the field, 
he held that it should be ended everywhere. And nothing 
roused his spirit, usually so calm and self-controlled, to 
anger so much as to hear the hisses and curses that found 
vent in the more violent papers of the South. On one 
occasion, after reading such ill-timed words, he said, " I 
condemn such bitterness wholly. Is it any wonder the 
Northern journals should retort upon us as they do, when 
we allow ourselves to use such language ? " Even if it 



314 BURYING ENMITIES IN THE GRAVE. 

had not been from a sense of the injustice of this violence 
of speech, and the impohcy of reviving passion and hatred, 
he had too much respect for himself and for his own peo- 
ple to indulge in such recriminations. The whole South 
felt the force of his examj)le. Even the old soldiers of 
the Confederacy could accept what had been accepted by 
their Leader ; the sight of their great Chieftain, so calm in 
defeat, soothed their anger and their pride ; and as he had 
set the example, they deemed it no unworthy sacrifice for 
them to become loyal supporters of the restored American 
Union. It is therefore not too much to say that it is omng 
in gi'eat measure to General Lee that the Civil War has 
not left a lasting division between the North and the South, 
and that they form to-day One United Country. 

These are grateful memories to be recalled now that 
he who was so mighty in war, and so gentle in peace, has 
passed beyond the reach of praise or blame. Do you tell 
me he was "an enemy," and that by as much as we love 
ovar country, we ought to hate its " enemies " ? But there 
are no enemies among the dead. When the grave closes 
over those with whom we have been at strife, we can drop 
our hatreds, and judge of them without passion, and even 
kindly, as we wish those who come after us to judge of us. 
In a few years all the contemporaries of General Lee will 
be dead and gone ; the great soldiers that fought with 
him and that fought against him, will alike have passed to 
the grave ; and then perhaps there will be a nearer ap- 
proach of feeling between friend and foe. 

"Ah, yes," say some who admit his greatness as a sol- 
dier and leader, "if it were not for his ambition, that 
stopped not at the ruin of his country!" Such is the 

fatal accusation : ^ , ., . 

" Cfesar was ambitious : 

If it were so, it was a grievous fault, 

And grievously hath Caesar answered it." 



HE PASSES INTO HISTORY. 315 

But was that ambition in him which was patriotism in ns ? 
How is it that ive who were upborne for four years by a 
passion for our country, that stopped at no sacrifices, con- 
not understand that other men, of the same race and 
blood, could be inspired by the same passion for what 
they looked upon as their country, and fight for it with 
the same heroic devotion that we fought for ours ? They 
as well as we were fighting for an idea : we for union, and 
they for independence — a cause which was as sacred to 
them as ours to us. Is it that what was patriotism on the 
one side, was only ambition on the other ? No : it was 
not disappointed ambition that cut short that life ; it was 
not the humiliation of pride ; but a wound that struck 
far deeper. One who watched by him in those long night 
hours, tells me that he died of a broken heart ! This is 
the most touching aspect of the great warrior's death : 
that he did not fall on the field of battle, either in the 
ho\u' of defeat or of victory ; but in sUent grief for suf- 
ferings which he could not relieve. There is something 
infinitely pathetic in the way that he entered into the con- 
dition of a whole people, and gave his last strength to 
comfoi-t those who were fallen and cast down. It was this 
constant strain of hand and brain and heart that finally 
snapped the strings of life ; so that the last view of him 
as he passes out of oiu' sight, is one of unspeakable sad- 
ness. The dignity is preserved, but it is the dignity of 
woe. It is the same tall and stately form, yet not wearing 
the robes of a conqueror, but bowed with sorrows not his 
own. In this mournful majesty, silent with a grief beyond 
words, this gi-eat figure passes into history. 

There we leave him to the judgment of another gene- 
ration, that "standing afar off" may see some things more 
clearly than we. "When the historian of future ages comes 
to write the History of the Great Kepublic, he will give 



316 ONLY A NAME ! 

the first place to that War of the Revolution by which our 
country gained its independence, and took its place among 
the nations of the earth ; and the second to the late Civil 
War, which, begun for separation, ended in a closer and 
consolidated Union. That was the last act in the great 
drama of our nation's life, in which history cannot forget 
the part that was borne by him whose silent form lies 
within this sepulchre. 

Only a name! As I took a last look at the recumbent 
statue, I observed that its marble base bore no epitaph ; 
no words of praise were carved upon the stone : only 
above it on the wall was the name, 

KOBEET EDWAKD LEE, 
with the two dates, 

BoEN January 19, 1807; 
Died October 12, 1870. 

That is all : but it is enough ; any eulogy would but 
detract from the spell of that single name : 

" One of the few, the immortal names, 
That were not born to die." 



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